Scott Pilgrim, The Ride Never Ends
by RyderRosas
Summary: Set 2 years after the original ending. No more fighting, no more evil exes, or so they thought. . After Ramona meets a clerk on work and helps him to get by, everything falls apart again.
1. Chapter 1

_**Scott Pilgrim: The Rider never ends**_

_**(Author's note: I have decided to fix every single fucking error these first chapters had with my friend ALEX RIDLEY.)**_

(OKAY IT WAS HIS IDEA.)

**_SO HERE YOU HAVE, THE FIRST PART OF THE ALEXANDER RIPLEY EDITS._**

**_SPTRNEChap1: Intro. -GAME LOADED SUCESSFULLY._**

**_LOADING..._**

* * *

A young man with short hair rushed though a set of stairs, his open jacket revealed a Smashing Pumpkings shirt underneath. At the top, there was a young woman with shoulder length blue hair , smiling she stood next to a door with a star on it. The door seemed to lead to some kind of dimmension, one that was as misterious as the couple.

"So... let's try it again." The woman offered a hand to her companion and stared at him before jumping to the door, dissapearing in the stange dimmension.

That was the supposed ending to a story, a story with one of those "unique" endings, one that makes you think.

But, unlike some stories, this one doesn't ends.  
Specially when trouble is just coming and it isn't stopping.

_Or did little Rammy and Scott though this was all over?_ _Oh no no no, this is just starting,_  
_and this ride isn't ending, at least not for now..._

_Scott Pilgrim..._

_The Ride **NEVER ENDS.**_

_2 years after the defeat of Gideon and the 7 exes_

Ramona Flowers walked inside the Amazon warehouse where she worked. She passed thought the information desk, quickly noticing a middle-aged hispanic man sitting on the desk, he wore a scratched black suit jacket with a red tie and a set of jeans and sneakers. His hands and neck were covered in tattoos, his hair was tighly combed back and he had a three-day beard.

The man stared at Ramona, investigating her. Ramona ignored the man and walked up the stairs, getting to the managers office where her boss, James Clark greeted her.

"Hey Ramona, you got the usual deliveries, some of them close, some of them at fifteen Kilometers from here... andddd, Oh! The new guy is here, he's recommended from New York and... I think he might burn down the building if he-"

A loud scream followed by a even louder punch was heard downstairs before James could finish his sentence.

"**WORK YOU STUPID PIECE OF CHEAP CRAP!**"

"_Calm...Him...Down..."_

"Oh c'mon James! Why me?" said Ramona obviously disappointed.

"Because, A:You are a people person, and B: I already tried with **EVERYONE** and, let's be honest they just pissed him off even more." James explained awkwardly.

"Alright. You owe me one." Said Ramona, grabbing her packages and leaving the office.

Ramona walked down the staircase to see the clerk again, staring the computer, his right hand bleeding from the punch he gave to the computer, which was smoking at this point. Ramona walked up to him and took the keyboard, before the clerk could react, the computer was fine again and in a menu with the deliveries on screen.

The clerk stared surprised at her.

"Wow...I... thanks, I was about to go insane. Sorry for not saying "hi" before, names Robert. What's yours?"

_**NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED! **_

_**Name: Robert Rodriguez.**_

_**AGE: 29**_

**_STATS:_**

**_-ONE HANDED: 49_**

**_-SMALL GUNS: 95_**

**_-SPEECH: 80_**

"Don't mention it, name's Ramona, why were so pissed anyways? James told me you were recommended or something."

"Yeah... You know what they say about drugs and booze making you go dumber? They was right. I used to work in an office believe it or not. That was like 5 years ago, but... you know shit happens."

"Hard to imagine that, anyways, I... kinda got to make a couple of deliveries, just try to don't destroy the building while I'm out okay?"

"Okay... Before you leave, can i ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

"You are the only kind blood I've seen so far in here, and i'm kinda homeless... think you can... tell me... where... I could...

stay?

to live you know...

and shit...

yeah."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Please?"

_**Hours later.**_

"I owe you one." Robert and Ramona stood in front of an apartment building, deep downtown.

"Don't thank me yet, I'm leaving you with Kim, praise he lets you crash for today."

"Why aren't we going to your place?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you prefer a 5 star hotel?"

"You insisted on helping me!...Okay... maybe not, but.. you know, I don't want to piss anyone off while I'm here."

"My boyfriend and I got a date, so yeah, you are staying here until tomorrow. God, why am I doing this?

"Puppy eyes baby! Never failed me!" said Robert smiling.

"Just ring the bell before I change my mind."

Robert rang the bell, after a while, the door opened to reveal a blonde woman with an angry looking face.

"Oh great, Kim's friend, what do **YOU** want now?" The moment she spoke those words, Robert's innocence dropped, just like his patience.

"I swear to god Ramona, If it weren't for you, I would snap her neck where she stands."

"Excuse me?!"

Ramona put her hand in front of Robert's mouth before he could end the sentence and blocked the door with her feet.

__while Sarah called Kim to come down.

"Oh hey Ramona, who's grumpy face?" said Kim Pine **(Age: 26) ** walking down the stairs as Sara got up.

"Ah yeah, he's a friend of mines, and he needs a place to stay tonight, could you do me this favor? Scott's waiting back at home."

"Ramona, you know that anyone else would get the door right now, he can stay, but only tonight, Sara over there would go off the walls if anyone stays here for more than a night. And I don't think you made a good impression."

"Thanks Kim, well, see you tomorrow Robert, good luck."

Ramona left the house and Kim walked the staircase back to her room.

"Wait, no introduction?"

"Oh right, I'm Kim and I got work tomorrow, the couch is there, good night."

"Oh c'mon! Can't you just have a chat with me?"

"If I'm letting you stay here is for Ramona, believe me, I **DON'T** want to talk with you. Again, the couch is there. Good night."

Robert laid down on the couch, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Loud screams could be heard from the TV as he turned it on.

"Oh, well you look at that, it's Kill Bill Vol 1! And on the massacre scene! And uncensored! If only someone would come down here and chat with me... maybe share a few drinks..."

"Oh, okay, just shut up! I will watch the goddamn movie with you!" said Kim as she made her way downstairs again and sat down on the couch right next to Robert.

"I knew you were." Robert grinned.

"Well, tell me about yourself! You look like an insteresting person!" said Robert.

"You must be real dumb to think that." answered Kim.

"Yeah, I'm kinda am, but i'm not the personification of the nineties."

"Repeat that and you sleep outside tonight."

_One long chat and 1 bottle of Whiskey later..._

"...So, the guy left Ontario a couple of weeks later, and there I was, broken, without any friends left, and alone. You might realize how that went."

"That's fucked up, that Scott dude sounds like the world's biggest douchebag."

"Because he was, he was scum, but he kinda redempted, okay, that was my entire childhood, it's your time to start talking. I want embarrassing stories and I want them now."

"Oh right, MY life... where do I begin...Well... I had a couple of problems back home you see..."

**"WOULD YOU BOTH SHUT UP?! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP HERE DAMMIT! IT'S LIKE TWO AM YOU LOUD IDIOTS!**"

"Well, I got work at eight." said Robert.

"So as I, you can tell me your story tomorrow. Good night kid." Kim stood up and walked up the staircase. She stopped on her tracks midway through.

"Before I forget... because I'm kinda drunk right now... a girl I know is hosting a party on her house tomorrow, you might wanna go there, to make friends or something."

"I might do, is she hot?"

"She's the ugliest person i ever met both in the inside and outside. But some friends of mines go there, god knows why. I will introduce you a couple."

"Thanks Kim."

"Don't mention it." said Kim as she walked the remmaining stairs and dissapeared in the darkness. After a while, Robert turned off the TV and slowly laid down on the couch.

"Okay, i think i just fucked it up again, great, time to make up another life. **Again... "**

_"Adrian you fucking idiot..."_

_** TO BE CONTINUED**_


	2. Chapter 1B

_**PART 2 OF THE ALEX RIDLEY EDITS.**_

Ramona got back to her house almost at 10. Entering the door she saw her boyfriend, Scott Pilgrim patiently standing next to the door, Nintendo DS in hand.

"Ramona! What took you so long?"

"I had to drop a friend on Kim's house, he's going to stay with us a couple of days. Hope you don't mind!" said Ramona while hanging her jacket on the coat hanger.

"A friend of yours... no problem!"

_**MEANWHILE ON SCOTT'S MIND**_

"Oh god no, he could be:

A: A hobo!

B: Some secret evil ex!

C: An ultra crazy psychopath that could trying to kidnap Rammy because she's the prettiest and most awesome girl on Canada!

I must defeat Ramona's evil friend!"

"Scott, he's not dangerous."

"Wait did you just read my mind?!"

"You are making worried faces... you always do when this happens."

"Huh...anyways, I made dinner! Happy Anniversary, Ramona!"

Scott moved to a side revealing a meal set on the floor, with drinks and candles set up.

"It's the meal we had the first time you came into my apartment!"

"Oh Scott, you are so sweet." said Ramona while kissing his boyfriend on the cheek.

_The Next Day_

"So, how did it go with Kim?" said Ramona, standing in the information desk of Amazon, where Robert Rodriguez was sitting with a cup of coffee on each hand.

"It went well, that Kim chick is a nice person, she's actually taking me to a party tonight to meet a couple of his friends of something. ...well, if you don't count that I only slept 5 hours thanks to my stress, it went fucking alright."

"Really? 5 hours?"

"I'm not a hard sleeper, Ramona, but let's stop talking about my night. How did the date go?"

"It went perfectly."

"So you DID get laid last night! Good to know."

"Not here, dammit!" said Ramona, embarrassed, hitting her friend in the head with her shoulder.

"Okay, okay! So, does he mind that I'm staying with you guys for a while?"

"Nah, he's fine about it."

_Eight hours earlier..._

"Is he evil?!"

"No!... I think."

"Oh okay. THEN HE CAN STAY."

_...and back in the present..._

"Great, that will make things less uncomfortable for all of us."

"So, do you have anything to move?"

"My car, but don't worry about it, I will bring the car by myself, you better go make the deliveries."

"Yeah, well, see you later."

After Ramona disappeared through the door, Robert almost immediately stood up. Placing a _"Back in 5 minutes"_ sign on the counter, he ran outside the warehouse's parking lot, opening a black Dodge Charger 1970 and entering it.

"Okay, don't freak out, and do this once and for all." told Robert to himself.

"Take the sawed-off shotgun from the back? **Check."**

"Take dual pistols on glove box? **Check."**

"Take the Uzis from the seats? **Check."**

"Take compromising picture with Miguel? **Check."**

Robert stowed each weapon in turn into his suit jacket, followed by a picture of him with a bald man wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He gave it a quick look over before opening the door, exiting the car and opening the trunk.

Wedged tightly inside the trunk, there was a large, battered briefcase, the edges worn by years of use. Robert opened the briefcase and left both the guns and picture inside before closing the trunk and returning to the Information desk. He ripped the sign to pieces and, sitting down, took a large sip of coffee.

"Why did I always leave that part for last?" asked Robert to himself.

_**A few more hours later**_

Ramona and Robert stood next to the closed door of the Amazon Warehouse, putting on their respective jackets.

"Freaking cold out here," muttered Robert as he zipped up his coat, walking towards the car. "So, are you sure you don't wanna go with me and Kim to the party?"

"I'm pretty sure Scott might think you are some kind of… "secret boss fight"... if you take me and Kim without him."

"Secret boss? Argh, fuck it! Tell him to come over! I bet he wants to!"

"Yeah, Julie's parties end up as disasters too often, you know? Last one was a kidnapping."

"Do I have to ask the obvious question?" said Robert as he opened the door of his car and sat on the driver's seat.

"No, there was NO rape... but it was Kim, you know? So don't talk about it near her," said Ramona as she sat on the on the passenger's seat.

"So, what it is? Is Kim the standard of ugly on Canada?"

"No, but she can kick ass even in a cage."

"Cage? You guys SERIOUSLY need to lay off the drugs."

"Can you just drive?"

"Okay, just tell me where the hell I go."

_**A short while later...**_

After finally arriving at Scott and Ramona's house, Ramona rang the bell, waiting for Scott to open the door. Off to the side, Robert lit a cigarette.

"Okay, please do NOT insult him because you don't like him. The last thing you want is to piss him off."

"Are you really going to remind me that EVERY time I have to meet any friends of yours?"

"...Just make a good first impression."

The door opened, finally revealing the man everyone had been talking about the last two days on Robert's life. Scott almost immediately freaked out upon seeing the suited, bearded man next to Ramona.

_**"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"**_

"Scott, **DON'T!"**

Scott didn't listen to Ramona, raising his fist and punching Robert in the face. A tooth flew from his mouth alongside his cigarette as he staggered back in pain.

"He **CLEARLY** is **EVIL! LOOK AT HIM!** He's wearing a suit and he's smoking! Evil people do that all the time!"

"Are you _**FUCKING RETARDED?!**_ Screw first impressions! You are going down, cannuck!"

**ROBERT VS SCOTT!**

**FIGHT!**

Robert leapt up and uppercutted an advancing Scott on the face. Reeling from the hit, Scott leapt forwards and kicked Robert in the chest, throwing him to his knees. The collapsing Robert used that as an opportunity and headbutted Scott hard in the crotch, throwing him inside the house and into a table howling in pain. Face bruised and furious, Scott grabbed a vase in the hallway and crashed it on Robert's head with all his strength, kicking him in his face again before getting up from the table he lay slumped over and roundhouse kicking Robert out of the house.

Both fighters, tired and injured, stopped for a moment, catching their breath. As Robert climbed to his feet from the yard outside, he grinned savagely and drew a butterfly knife out of his suit, tossing it from hand to hand. Scott met his glare, raising a hand to his chest and drawing "The Power Of Self-Respect" out of his chest in a burst of green flame.

"A **KATANA**?! I call bullshit!"

"You pulled a knife on me!"

**"WOULD YOU BOTH STOP?!**" said Ramona as she got in the middle of both of them, interrupting the fight.

"He started it!" they both said at the same time, staring dead at each other as if Ramona wasn't even there.

**"Liar! You were the one who started it!"**

**"Stop saying what i'm saying!"**

**"You're doing it again!"**

"Are you going to be like that all night?" Ramona yelled, glaring at the two of them with equal intensity.

"Wait, let me see if he guesses this one," said Scott, smiling despite himself.

"Yeah! You think you can get one past me?" grinned Rob, matching Scott's smile.

Ramona sighed, folding her arms "No. To the both of you."

"Oh, you are a buzz-killer, Ramona."

"You started fighting my friend because he wears suits!"

"Evil.. people wear... suits... and smoke..." said Scott ashamed.

"Of course I wear suits! Almost everyone in downtown Toronto wear suits! Jesus Christ, don't take him to a Office complex or he'll get the chair!" cried Rob, exasperated.

"By the way... I woulda totally kicked your ass, Scotty-boy." Added Rob, before splitting some blood. "God damn it, this fucking hurts! Has anyone seen my tooth?"

"Nope... Oh wait, here we go." Said Ramona, calling Robert over.

"Oh... you've got to be kidding me." said Rob, examining his fallen tooth.

"Look, I'm sorry about your teeth. I'll pay the dentist bill, don't worry about that," said Scott.

"It's the wisdom one."

"Oh, theeeeeeeeen I owe you something else."

Rob sighed, looking at the tooth with regret, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "And it gets worse than this on those parties you were talking about, Ramona?"

"Yeah, you don't know the half of it..."

"Well, I need a drink, and better company than this jackass." Rob ignored Scott's shout of objection. "So I'm going anyways."

"Going where?"

"Kim invited him to Julie's pa-" Ramona clamped a hand over her mouth before she could say too much.

Scott's eyes brightened almost instantly. "Julie's having a party?! Can I go?"

"Oh god dammit, Scott..." We can't let him know anything more, she thought, exasperation masking her panic.

"Just let him go. He owes me something now, and I bet that party has booze," grinned Rob, wiping the blood from his beard as he did.


	3. Chapter 3: Knives, Pens and Guns(part1)

"So, talk about first impressions right?" said Kim Pine while walking with Ramona Flowers, Scott Pilgrim and Robert Rodriguez on the streets of Toronto.

"Can we talk about the KNIFE he pulled on me?!" said Scott, staring worriedly at his new roommate.

"Scott, I'm from New York. Mugging is something normal there, and this is for self defense. Besides... you pulled a goddamn flaming katana on me!" cried Robert, playing with the knife on his hand.

"Could you stop with that thing please? You could hit someone!" spat Ramona in annoyance.

"Oh c'mon! You worry too much! I'm a pro with this thing!" As if on cue, he fumbled with one side of the knife's handle, sending it spinning into the back of his hand. "Ouch!"

Ramona's expression split into a grin. "Told you so."

The group finally arrived at an apartment building 5 minutes later, loud indie rock blasting from the top floor. The front door was packed with arriving partygoers.

"Oh god, I forgot why I hate this kind of place," muttered Kim. "Too many idiots."

"You don't even know any of them!" said Scott.

"I don't need to. You have to be an idiot to go to one of Julie's parties, for god's sake," replied Kim..

"Let's just get in." said Ramona entering the building along with Scott.

"Wait for us one sec.." Said Robert, fumbling for an excuse. "Kim and I have to talk... 'bout something."

"Sure, see you upstairs," said Ramona as she walked away with Scott.

"So Kim, you mentioned something about this band of yours..."

Back in the building, Ramona and Scott rushed into one of the crowded elevators, pushing groups of drunk people out of the way. One remained open for long enough by pure luck.

"We aren't waiting for them?"

"They know where the party is, right?, So let's have some fun without them!" said Ramona as she pressed the button to the top floor.

"Right, as long as no evil enemies show up at this one..."

"Scott! Don't jinx us!"

One crowded elevator ride later...

Ramona and Scott lurched out onto the floor Julie's apartment was, breathing sighs of relief, leaving the crowded elevator behind. The music was even louder here, pounding as drunks, idiots and drunk idiots stood on the landing ranting, drinking and doing questionable things.

"Ugh… I'm not getting back in that lift again in a hurry," muttered Ramona, breathing in precious air. "Screw waiting for them, let's get drunk!"

"Really? We just got here, Rammy..."

"I had a LONG day, Scott. I want to have fun."

"We could hang out with Stephen Stills?"

Ramona stared back at Scott.

"...Young Neil?"

"..."

"Okay, fine, I'll get the Tequila..." he moaned, grudgingly walking into Julie's apartment.

_**MEANWHILE DOWNSTAIRS...**_

"Kim… I want to join your band!"

"Wait... **WHAT****?!**" The disgust in her words was almost painful to hear.

"I was a guitar player back home! We were SICK! I can get a guitar, I know a guy, don't worry!"

"You are NOT joining Sex-bob-omb! We already had enough trouble getting Stills back after he BEGGED for readmission!... hey... are you even listening to me?"

"I got lost at 'I have a awesome band'... please?"

"NO. I deal with more shit than most people. I had to move in with the most idiotic group of sex addicts of Toronto, have the worst job I could wish on anyone, and have the worst co-worker in the world. I'M NOT GOING TO LET ANYBODY DESTROY MY ONLY ESCAPE!"

There was a moment of awkward silence between the couple while they both stared at each other. Finally, Robert spoke.

"Jeez, I get it. Let's just go upstairs now..."

Kim sighed, slumped a bit, then moved towards the apartment block's entrance. "Fine. But we don't speak about this any more, got it?"

Rob looked down from her scathing stare, embarrassed. "...got it…"

_**UPSTAIRS**_

As soon as Kim and Robert walked through her apartment door, Julie Powers, approached the two, a wry smile on her face..

"Wow, and I thought you were going to die alone, Kim."

"Wait what the hell are you talking abo-? Kim looked at herself, then at Robert, then at Julie before angrily raising her middle finger.

"So, you're this Julie chick I've heard so much about?" asked Robert.

"You heard about me?"

"Yeah, they told me you were a bitch. I think you might be right Kim."

Anger flashed in Julie's eyes. "Bitch? I do you a favour and hide the memorial party for Envy Adams from Scott, and THIS is how you repay me?"

"Envy Adams died? Meh." said Robert.

"Ugh, If you weren't with Kim, I'd kick you right now. And yes, she killed herself last month. This idiot thought that not letting Scott Pilgrim know would be a good idea. Whatever," explained Julie as she left the couple, steaming mad.

"Kim? Uh… I could use an explanation."

"Oh yeah, you're new here… well, Scott dated Envy in college. They broke up, but got reunited some time ago, it's a long story. Last month she jumped off the balcony of her condo in New York and died. We thought Scott might take it badly, so Ramona and I have been hiding every single piece of information from him."

"How did that go?"

"Well, the media went crazy, so Ramona used pre-recorded shows to distract Scott. I "unplugged" the Internet from the house and pretended it was internet maintenance, and we all agreed not to say a word about it."

"No, offense, but, you really should tell him..." muttered Rob, frowning.

"He's like a 5 year old emotionally and mentally. We're trying to find a way to tell him that won't make him feel too bad."

"Yeah, good luck with that…" Rob looked back at the party going on over his shoulder. "So, who's first on the setlist?"

"Well, there's Stills, Neil... oh yeah, Knives too..."

"Knives? Why the nickname?"

"It's not a nickname, her father is just insane."

"Ok, got the message, don't fuck with a dad who names his kids after weapons. Anything else?"

"She has an obsession with Scott and white weapons, tried to kill Ramona several times and failed badly, her dad is insane, but I told you that already. She's a fangirl of The Clash And The Demonhead, Asian, and… there's not not much to say." Kim then realized that Robert was giving her the most insane, excited, and somewhat happy look she would see in her entire life.

"Can we meet her?"

Meanwhile, in Julie's bed...

"Ramona..."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you decide to help that guy… Rob?"

"He seemed nice," shrugged Ramona, staring past Scott.

"It may be the Tequila talking, but i think that's not the true reason..."

"Is it me, or you are incredibly smart when you are drunk?" Ramona tried to change the subject.

"Rammy..."

"Okay... he reminded me of myself when i first got to Toronto lost and alone... I wanted to give him a hand you know? The help no one gave me, well, except Julie and you, I guess."

"...Wow."

"Yep."

Scott's face split into a smile. "I'm proud of you, Ramona." Scott kissed his girlfriend on the forehead and pulled her into a hug.

_Downstairs_

Robert and Kim had wandered towards the table Knives Chau and her 'only' friend Tamara were sitting at. From a safe distance so he couldn't be seen, Rob watched the two chatting.

"Which one is Knives?"

"The one with the black dress and hair."

"...A little more specific please?"

"The one on the right."

"Oh… Wow. She's cute."

Kim frowned at him, letting out a little sigh. "Are you really going for this?"

"And why the fuck not? She's goddamn perfect!"

"Could you stop swearing?"

"Could you f-" Robert began, before a partygoer behind him threw his drink all over his shoulder. He span around, glaring daggers into the white-shirted man behind him. Rob noticed with deepening fury the man's now-empty cup.

"The hell is wrong with you, you moron!?"

"What!? Ca-can't i have so-some goddamn f-fun, you dumb Mexican?"

"What... did... you... just... call... me?" Rob's eye twitched, the temperature in the room seeming to drop.

"ME-XI-CA-" Before he could finish his sentence Robert kicked him savagely in the crotch, threw him to the ground, drew his butterfly knife and plunged it into the carpet next to the drunkard's face.

Everybody looked up at the two in shock.

"Next time the knife goes into your balls." whispered Robert, while the man below him squirmed.

"Wow, that's some impressive skills you got there man, friend of yours Kim?" said Knives, waving over Kim.

"Ehhhh, yeah, he's a friend of mine. His name's Robert." She put a hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the drunkard on the floor. "Rob? This is Knives. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get Ramona," said Kim, walking away from the couple, whispering something to Robert before leaving.

_"You're welcome."_


	4. Knives, Pens and Guns (part 2)

Kim got up the stairs and found Scott Pilgrim **(Status:Drunk)** and Ramona Flowers **(Status:Drunker!)** on Julie's bed, she grabbed the Tequila bottle that Ramona had in her hand and took a big sip from it.

"How did it went?" asked Ramona.

"You wouldn't believe what happened."

"Pfff. It can't be that bad. What, did he killed someone?" joked around Scott

.  
"Close, he gave the guy a warning." answered Kim. Ramona and Scott stared at each other shocked, then to Kim.

"Told you guys wouldn't believe it."

"Why did he did that on the first place?"

"Something about calling him Mexican, so at least we know where he's **NOT** from."

"And right now he is..." asked Ramona.

"Trying to hit on Knives Chau." stated Kim. Ramona splat the tequila in her mouth.

"You are telling me that the guy that almost KILLS someone because he called him "mexican" is trying to hit on the woman who **TRIED** **TO KILL ME SEVERAL TIMES?!"**

"Looking back to it... i might have fucked it up." said Kim before taking the bottle from Ramona's hands.

"You do realize you have joined the both psychopaths of this party right?" asked Ramona worried.

"Meh, it's not like Knives is trying to kill you anymore for dating Scott, you know?" said Kim.

"I can watch him over if you want." said Pilgrim.

"You almost killed each other less than an hour ago." said Ramona.

"Oh, right."

* * *

**_DOWNSTAIRS_**

"So, tell me about yoruself!" said Knives Chau **(Age: 20)** to Robert Rodriguez. **(Age 29)**

"Uh, eh, well, i- i play the guitar!... And i do things... emmm, arg fuck it, i used to be a cop back in New York."

"A cop?"

"A **UNDERCOVER COP!**" whispered Robert.

"Then what in the devil's name are you doing here "Mr. Payne"? said Knives laughting.

"I kinda left the department, violently. Don't wanna talk about it..."

"Aha. And you expect me to believe that lie?"

"Well, i tried, oh, and the guitar part is true. Now where's your friend with the drinks? I want to knock the pain outta me."

"Ah, yeah, can i ask you what happened to your tooth or that's _"secret police business"_?

"Fight happened. Lost wisdom tooth, hurts like hell. Want some goddamn whiskey."

"Oh, well, from where do you know Kim anyways? You don't seem his... type." asked Knives.

"Ramona Flowers introduced her to me, she has taken me here to "meet friends", so far, you're the only one."

"Oh, wanna meet Stills?, He's a cool guy."

"Sure, he played in a band or something right?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

Knives and Robert soon found Stills **(Age:25 Status: Still gay)** and his boyfriend Joseph **(age: 26?)** chatting over with some friends.

Knives got closer to greet them.

"Hey Stephen Stills!"

"Please don't do that Knives." answsered Stills while turning back from the flock of friends that he had in front of him.

"Everyone does!" complained Knives.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't be like us, i mean, you should know by now."

"Jeez, Joseph has made you a buzzkiller, you know?"

"Jeez, Joseph's listening you know? you big asian bitch." Answered Joseph, turning to the couple.

"Yeah, yeah fuck off, Jossie, anyways, Stills, this is Robert, Robert, this is "The Talent."

"The Talent?" asked Robert laughting.

"Yeah, i am on a band, pretty sure you heard about it by now, but, we're kinda of a pretty big deal."

"Actually, they are an underrated band that for some stange reason, no one likes." stated Knives.

"Yeah, Kim told me about that, so, what's her deal with the band? She went nuts when i asked to join Sex-... bomb? Sex... dammit i forgot the rest."

"Bob-Omb, Sex-Bob-Omb. The name was Scott's idea. So you wanna join us? Well, maybe if you prove me how good you are with a guitar..." said Stills.

"Aha, and what happens when Kim launches at my throat and rips it off while i'm still breeding because i, and i'm quote "Destroy his last escape"? asked Robert.

"Oh wait, you talked to Kim about it? Man that makes this almost impossible, and ... ok i want you to know this ahead, last time i let extra members enter our band, it ended up with our last chance of success slipping away thanks to the biggest backstabber in story. You seem to be friends with one of our only fans, so i MIGHT give you one chance to prove yourself, but you need a guitar."

"And where i'm supposed to find that?" asked Robert.

"Well, some guys are going to act in here tonight, if you can convince them, you could easily get one." said Knives.

"Convince them you say..." Robert looked to the makeshift stage in the middle of the room, and almost instantly saw a Les Paul with a mess of wires next to it.

"Yeah... I can work with that..."

* * *

Meanwhile Scott managed to get downstairs and began to search for the couple, but not before bumping into Neil Nordegraf **(Age 23)** and her sister Stacey Pilgrim **(Age: 22)**

"Hey Scott!"greeted Stacey.

"Hi sis!" answered Scott.

"I'm surprised Julie invited you to the party." said Neil.

"Neil, half of the people here aren't invited." stated Stacey.

"Erm, glad to see you both and all, but have you seen Knives?"

"Knives? i think i saw him with some guy in a suit, why do you wanna know? are you now a mafia hitman or something Scott?"

"What? No! are you both drunk?"

"Everybody in this party is! Don't be a buzzkiller little brother."

"Just tell me where are they..."  
Suddenly, a loud guitar note was heard from the epicenter of the room, the note came from Robert's **(RyderRosas note: Stolen)** Les Paul, **(Robert Rodriguez note: Borrowed) (RR note:Without permission.)**

"**IS THIS ENOUGH TO PROVE MYSELF STILLIO?!**" Yelled Robert at the top of his lungs before raising his hand and playing a second loud note that caught the attention of Ramona Flowers **(What the FUCK are you doing?!)** and Kim Pine **(You are a DEAD MAN!)**  
Robert began playing the riff from "_Quiet_", and got close to the microphone. (**RyderRosas part: This is the part where YOU google the song and play it.)**

_ Quiet_  
_ I am sleeping_  
_ in here_  
_ We need a little hope_

_ For years_  
_ I've been sleeping_  
_ Helpless_  
_ Couldn't tell a soul_

_ Be ashamed_  
_ Of the mess you've made_  
_ My eyes never forget, you see_  
_ Behind me_

_ Silent_  
_ Metal mercies_  
_ Castrate_  
_ Boys to the bone_

_ Jesus_  
_ Are you listening?_  
_ Up there_  
_ To anyone at all_

_** WE ARE THE FOSSILS****!**_  
_** THE RELICS OF OUR TIME!**_  
_** WE MUTILATE THE MEANINGS!**_  
_** SO THEY'RE EASY TO DENY-AY-AY- ARG!**_  
A man aproached Robert from behind and hit him with a chair on his back,interrupting the song and throwing him painfully to the ground.

**"WHO LAUGHS NOW YOU DUMB MEXICAN?!"** said the drunktard from before, as group of friends got close to Robert and Knives, who was helping Robert to get up.

"I told you... next one will **GO INTO YOUR FUCKING BALLS!**" Yelled Robert while pulling off his butterfly once again with one hand and grabbing a bottle of Whiskey and breaking it with the other.

* * *

** 15 MINUTES LATER.**  
"Well that was fun." said Robert at the door of Julie's aparment buiding. He had multiple wounds on his face and body.  
"Fun?** FUN?!**" Yelled Kim Pine while being grabbed by Scott and Stills, who were preventing her from brutalazing Robert.  
"It was a good fight!" answered Robert.

* * *

"**DIE! DIE! FUCKING EAT MY FISTS YOU ASSWIPE!**" yelled Robert while punching the leader of the group on the face, who had Robert's knife and bottle stabbed IN HIS crotch. Knives quickly kicked one of the tugs behind Robert into a drumset.

* * *

"Is it **MY** fault that **EVERYONE** joined into the fight?" asked Robert.  
"Eh! We were trying to help!" said Scott, while holding a bag of ice into his eye.

* * *

Scott punched one of the tugs, who was holding a guitar on his hands, and immediately roundhoused another one in the face. Before he could react again, a chair flew into his head, knocking him out.  
"Sorry Scotty!"

* * *

"And i thank you for that Scotty, you are a nice person and i forgave how you brutally punched out the most painfull teeth on my body." responded Robert.

"This is the last time we bring him to a party." said Ramona.

"It was the racist guy's fault." Robert tried to explain himself.

"You are lucky that guy didn't call the cops." said Stills.

"Please, i'm suffering as well! I didn't get my drink."

"You are a moron." answered Kim.

"Well, it was fun, besides, those guys were a bunch of douchebags. I'm glad we taught them a lesson!" said Knives, trying to defend Robert.

"Let's just go home." said Ramona while grabbing Scott by the arm and walking away from the group.

"Yeah, no. Knives and me have some things to catch up, i'll get home later." said Robert as he walked away with Knives.

"Why did we even bothered bringing him to the party?" asked Kim to herself as she walked with Scott, Ramona and Stills back home.

"It's not like those parties ever ended well. Or do i remind you the robots, psychopatic ex-boyfriends and propane explosions?" said Stills.

"Also, if you **DARE** bringing him to band practice tomorrow i'll kill you. i swear to god, first thing i'll do." stated Kim.

"The guy was good! He played a _Smashing Pumpkins_ song, and he was good!"

"Stills, NONE of our songs have 2 guitars. It's going to be more problems than results. Besides, it's not like we're trying to be famous with that band anyways."

**"WAIT WHAT!?"** yelled both Stills and Scott in unison.

"Please lower your volumes, my head hurts already." said Ramona already suffering from a hangover.

"This is going to be a long night..." said Scott.

What neither Scott or no one of his friends knew is that a group of shadows was behind them, stalking them, hidden on the cars and streetposts, one of the shadows, who was on top of a rooftop, almost as stalking the group of shadows itself, had a dark aura around him.

The figure softly spoke with a deep voice.

"_And so it begins... Mrs. Flowers._"


	5. Knives, Pens and Guns (Last part)

""You never told me why you were in that party, Knives," said Rob, walking along the streets of Toronto with Knives.

"You must be brain-dead or something. Why wouldn't you want to go to a party?"

"I'm just trying to make conversation…" Rob looked up in sudden realization. "Crap, I just remembered... your friend is still in that shithole!"

"Wait, did we just forgot about Tamara? Shit!" said Knives, pulling out her cellphone, revealing 11 missed calls.

"Think she's mad?" asked Rob.

"Well, she stood around while I had my little 'Scott Pilgrim drama' for almost 2 years and didn't say a word. This is nothing for her," answered Knives while writing a text message back.

"Ah, just leave her, she'll be fine! Besides, you didn't answer my question."

Knives finished composing her message and flipped the phone back in her pocket. "Ah, right, I'm here on my holidays. I thought it would be nice to get back in touch with my old friends at home after being in college for 2 years," answered Knives.

"Wait… you're a COLLEGE student?"

"Do I look that old?"

"No, it's just... I've met the worst kind of people in the past 4 or 5 years. I'm not used to being around 'responsible' people."

Knives frowned. "What kind of people are we talking about?"

"Ehhhh... Junkies, con-men... prosti... Wait. Wasn't I asking the questions here?"

"So THAT'S why you kept lying to me about your past! But… that sucks. Why are you here then? If you don't mind explaining..."

Rob sighed, thought for a few seconds, before giving in. "Ah, what the hell. I, um, kinda owed some cash to a guy... too much cash... I left New York a little bit after Mafia tried to break both my legs. I thought Toronto would be a nice place to hide, you know? " explained Rob.

"Wow. Well, don't worry about those assholes. I've got my own… talents. We can both put up a good fight against them."

"Thanks, that means a lot... But I don't want you to get into trouble," muttered Rob. To his surprise, Knives began laughing.

"Get... into... trouble? You don't... know me..." The psychopathic flash Rob had seen before in her eyes flared up again. Rob's hand started unconsciously fumbling for his knife.

"I'm glad to have you as a friend, Knives... because we are friends... right?" asked Rob nervously.

To his relief, Knives split into a huge, innocent grin. "Of course we are! I've never had so much fun in one of Julie's parties EVER! We need to hang out more often."

_[Holy fuck… I actually made it!... maybe this can work out after all…]_ thought Robert, remembering something from the distant past...

_**1 and a half years earlier...**_

"...So I always wondered, Micky, where are you going after we retire?" asked "Rob" to his bald roommate Miguel De La Rosa as he dressed front of a mirror.

"No idea. Maybe back home, maybe Los Angeles, OR MAYBE we won't even make it outta this job alive, jackass. What did I tell you about getting cocky?"answered Miguel, his expression bothered.

"Oh please, if we're going to die, at least let's die happily with some goddamn hopes for our futures! Where are our masks?"

"I put them the bag. But alright then, Gandhi, where are YOU planning on going then if we make it out of this job?" asked Miguel, irony dripping from his voice.

"Canada." responded Robert.

"**CANADA?**" Miguel couldn't hide his laugh. "I thought you wanted to be out of this shithole. Why are you going into another?"

"Oh, look who's talking now, Uncle Sam. What's next? Are the blacks slaves, the Russians commies, the Chinese chinks and the hispanic cholos, like you?"

"Ex-cholo!" stated Miguel annoyed.

"Oh, please. You're Americanized, and you know it, motherfucker!"

"And what about you? What happened to that Spanish accent of yours? You sound like a fuckin' local, for God's sake!"

"Do you wanna hear my reasons, or do you wanna keep talking all this bullshit?"

"Okay, shoot."

"First, Canada's not the violent, ignorant hell that we're stuck in right now, Micky. It's a peaceful place. Second: You can drink in the strip clubs there. And third… do I have to spell it out?" He grinned. "LUMBERJACK. GIRLS."

"Lumberjack girls?!" Miguel began laughing even more.

"Fuck off!" Rob laughed despite himself. "First thing I'm doing as soon as I get to Canada, it's nailing the first beauty I see. I swear to god Micky, I'll send you a picture of her just to see your fucking face. Now... let's go. We got 5 minutes to get there. The crew is not going to be happy if we get late." said Robert as both man grabbed their weapons and hid them on their respective suit jackets before leaving the apartment.

"You know you're a moron, right Rob? ...Rob? Robert?"

"Robert? You have been quiet for almost 20 minutes, you ok?" asked Knives.

"Wha- whe- arg, dammit, not again." said as he got back to reality. They both were in front of a small patio. Knives rang the interphone. "Yeah, I'm okay" he answered.

"Well, this is it, here, have my number," said Knives, fumbling around for a small and wrinkled piece of paper. As soon as he grabbed the piece of paper, the door opened, revealing a middle aged man with spiked hair wearing a striped shirt. It was Knives father, Mr Chau, expression serene behind his sunglasses before he looked down.

As his hidden eyes looked over the couple on the doorstep, Rob noticed thousands of muscles almost imperceptibly tighten beneath the man's shirt and skin. The atmosphere plunged from the warmth of fatherly affection to the ice cold of hostility as unseen eyes stared into Rob's. And yet the only obvious change was the corner of his mouth twitching down a few degrees before he made a sweeping, sudden gesture to Knives. She grabbed Rob's hand as she gave the man a worried look.

"I think he wants you to enter." explained Knives.

"Why would he want that?" whispered Rob worried.

"No idea. But you don't wanna piss him off." whispered Knives back. Rob gave him another look before meekly looking down.

Mr. Chau spoke with gravity, each of his words slow and practiced, thudding like an avalanche with suppressed anger.

"Inside."

Knives nodded and awkwardly pulled Rob into the door of the garage, Mr. Chau watching them, stone-faced, as they passed. One arm thrust towards Knives and grasped her arm as she walked by him, gently pointing towards the house. Knives gave Rob a despairing look before reluctantly releasing him and walking out of the garage before he could protest.

"You... are not from here. I can see it," said Mr. Chau as he grabbed two dirty chairs from the workbench of the garage they were both in.

"The... attitude, the tan skin, the tattoos. But that suit worries me," he continued.

"...what's wrong with it?" asked Robert more worried than ever for his life.

"Young man, you are a criminal. Scars, tattoos. Marks of experience."

Rob found himself unconsciously looking at his arms, trying not to meet Mr. Chau's face. "Thus I want to know your intentions."

"Intentions? Look, I retired, clean, no bullshit, okay? I didn't want to get in that fucking business in the first pla-" There was a barely audible *snick* before a mirror-sheened katana blade was pressed next to Rob's throat, Mr. Chau hardly seeming to move.

"Men have said this many times to me. They have lied." interrupted Mr. Chau. "Who do you serve?"

"N-nobody! I… nobody!"

"I do not trust a man who wears those tattoos. What do you intend to do with her?"

In the 5 minutes he had been there, Rob had become legitimately scared. The question blindsided the normally prepared man.

"Well... I..." Panic bit into Rob's heart, sweat beginning to run down the katana from his neck. There was a tiny pressure there, so small, but so close he was sure that Mr. Chau could bring it through his neck with next to no effort.

"Silence."

Mr. Chau turned slightly, his sunglasses reflecting Rob's face. "My daughter's protection is my life. There are those who desire to hurt me, and to hurt her to do so. I have taught her well. She could kill you in the time it would take you to draw your knife." Rob's panic rose even higher. How did he… "But if you get close to her, disarm her…"

Mr. Chau lowered the weapon. Rob let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. "Understand I am truly worried. You are not Japanese, so not amongst my enemies… that I know of. She cares for you. I see that in her eyes. So… I will not harm you today." Mr. Chau drew his weapon back, vertically holding it so the blade gleamed in the garage's light. A drop of Rob's sweat ran down the flat.

"Remember this, however. Touch her without proving yourself… harm her in any way…" Mr. Chau drew his katana back and forth with such speed the air hardly even moved. The drop of Rob's sweat fell to the ground, sliced in two.

"... this language does not have words for the pain you will experience. Understand?"

Mr. Chau turned to look at Rob with the full force of his expression. He met the black glare of his glasses for about a second. For that one moment, the fear of death by that silver blade, sharp enough to glisten even in the half-light, overwhelmed his world. He was acutely aware that the only thing keeping his head attached was Knives' fondness for him. The silence was stifling.

Rob broke eye contact. This was some serious business he was in.

"Do you?" asked Mr. Chau once again.

_"...Yes."_

**A/N: And here ends the prologue. **

**Its going down soon enough BTW, anyway, during the summer i wrote this i used a LOT of music to inspire myself. Here are the names of the songs if you feel interested.**

**-Plumtree-Scott Pilgrim**

**-Muse-Plug in Baby, Bliss.**

**-Smashing Pumpkings -Today. Quiet, Tonight, Tonight.**

**-Blur - Coffee and TV.**

**-Nirvana - Heart Shaped Box.**

**Thanks for surviving this!**

**RyderRosas.**


	6. Life goes on (Part 1)

**A/N Ok RyderRosas here, due to a small "problem" i wouldn't call it problem thought, more like a blessing, i got double spaces on dialogue for... half a chapter i think. Yeah. Anyways. Let's begin with part 1.  
**

"How could you think you were going away with that trick Miguel? I'm not an idiot." Miguel knew this was his end. He could feel the blood pouring on his chest, he could see his hawaian shirt covered in crimson, he could feel the pain on his tied hands, and sure could recognice the man in front of him. The man was middle aged but he could still fight, his long wavy hair was one of the few things he could see, as he was half blinded by the lights of the 2 cars in front of him.  
"C'mon, just answer you _bald fuck..._" the man got closer and closer to Miguel, pointing his engraved Colt to his face.  
"You want me to die scared? I'm not giving you the pleasure you fuckface." The man smacked his gun to Miguel's face and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt. They were eye to eye, almost sharing the same breath.  
"Wrong. You are going to die scared, like the little bitch you are. Ever heard of a "_Texas Burial_" Miguel?" said the man as he and Miguel got close to an empty unmarked grave. The man was right, Miguel was scared. Of all the ways he could and want to go, this was definitely not one of those.  
"Oh, look at your face, the same one when your little moronic friend of yours left you behind. What? You thought he didn't looked up for _numero uno_? Time to die Micky. Tell Peter he's welcome." said the man before kicking Miguel into the coffin inside the grave and closing it. Miguel closed his eyes and finally accepted his fate. He was going to die there. Alone, either by hunger, thirst, or lack of oxigen. He felt the deepest regret for the first time on his life.

* * *

After a while he heard gunshots. Lots of gunshots, then, the coffin opened once more.  
Another man welding a revolver in his hand and wearing a dress shirt covered in bullet holes was on the other side. When Miguel saw a failed attempt of a fauxhawk he knew who was that man.  
"And i thought you were already on the airport man." said the Mexican as he tried to stoop up.  
"Yeah, well i can't work alone dude." stated the gunslinger as he cut he ropes and lifted his only friend out off the grave. As he got up he could see the man from before on the ground holding his belly, as blood came out of it. The cars around him were filled with bulletholes and surrounded by dead henchmen.  
Miguel didn't thinked it twice and grabbed his attacker and threw him on the grave.  
"That's karma. **_Hijo de puta._**" said Miguel before closing the coffin, then proceeding to shoot the coffin with his killer's pistol. He could hear the now painful screams for mercy of the poor soul inside of what it should be his resting place. A lot of thoughts came to his mind. How he ended like that, how did the poor sucker he spared almost a year ago had turned into the man next to him, why was he even alive in the first place... He didn't know what to feel. The gunslinger tapped Miguel's shoulder. He looked up to see a crane filled with dirt.  
"If you have the honours Mickey... i think this is between you and him."  
Miguel could listen to the man.  
**"LET ME OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH!"**

_RyderRosas Presents..._  
He could hear his patethic menaces.  
**"I'LL GET OUT OF HERE!"**

_A fanfic Based on Brian Lee O Malley's series._  
And attempts to fall with style.  
"**AND THEN I'LL FIND YOU AND THAT FUCKING DUMB FRIEND OF YOURS!"**  
It was then when he realized, he didn't care about how he ended up there, or how that man he spared one year ago had turned into the bleeding psychopath he had behind him, or the "repercusions" the man keep yelling about.  
Miguel slowly pulled the level downand tons of dirt covered the grave. The screams came to a stop.

He didn't care at all.

He didn't felt any regrets anymore.

He was a free man.

_Scott Pilgrim, The Rider Never Ends._

**PART 1: _Life Goes On._**

* * *

"Man, i'm knackered." said Scott Pilgrim **(The "eternal" hero, Age: 26)** to his co-worker and friend Stephen_ "The Talent"_ Stills.

"Yeah, kinda hard to sleep after what happened yesterday." answered stills as he chopped some carrots.

"Ramona was off the walls after the fight, speccially when we both woke up at two in the morning because Robert got lost trying to get back home. We took an hour to find him."

"How long will it take for her to kick him out?"

"I dunno."

"We could bet on this thing Scott, the guy's a tool. I mean, he's a damn fine guitarrist and all, but a **TOOL. **If he doesn't become the perfect roommate in a week or so, Ramona will kick him. You gotta do something as well, you know?"

A loud discussion errupted at the counter as Stills and Scott finished chatting. As they both peeked their heads throught the order window, they could see a old man with a long block of hair loudly yelling at the ober.

"And i say i want to meet the cooks that did this meal!"

"Really? I don't get it, i mean..."

"I thought this was a goddamn fine stablishment Ma'am! Isn't the costumer **always** right?" The man had a strong American accent but neither Stills or Scott could knew from what part of the States was that accent.

"Ehhh, guys? This guy here wants to talk to you... here, all yours, i guess." said the Ober as she opened the small gate between the counter and the kitchen. The "costumer" quickly made his way to both cooks, and in matter of seconds, they were face to face.

"You were the ones who made my mea- oh of course you are, you are the only goddamn cooks here." said the man looking arround the kitchen. He wore a black leather jacket and blue jeans.

"Eh, well, i..." mumbled Scott as he desesperatly tried to find a subject to change to.

"What's your name fella?" said the man as he pointed his finger to Scott's face.

"Scott..." The man laughted a bit when he heard the answer.

"Scott huh? Nice name. Reminds me of an old friend... let me give you a word of advice _Scott... Beware of your friends_ kid. Or they'll became enemies. Also, don't put so much fucking hot sauce. My colon is burning." said the man as he turned around and slowly got out of the building. Stills and Scott were wondering what the hell just happened.

"Dude, what the hell was that?" asked Stills.

"The weirdest feedback we just got in our entire careers?"

* * *

"How many times do i have to say i'm sorry?" said Robert Rodriguez **(The eternal Antihero, Age: 29) **to his Co-worker and new roommate Ramona Flowers **(Age: 27)  
**as they both got back from work.

"First day i let you stay on my place, first thing you do is get in a fight with my boyfriend..."

"He started!"

"...Brought him to the party i **DIDN'T WANT HIM TO BE IN!**..."

"To be fair, he didn't did any ruckus..."

"...Almost murder half the party attendants in a fight over a racist insult..."

"You do not wanna know why i hate being related to México Flowers..."

**"And to make it worst, get lost in downtown Toronto, at two AM, and make me be looking for you for a GODDAMN HOUR!"**

"...I'm... sorry... again?" Ramona punched Robert in the face.

"One more mistake, and you are on the door. Got it?"

"Okay, dammit, i'll behave! You hit me right were my wisdom tooth was!"

"Just get up..." said Ramona as she offered her hand to Robert.

* * *

Minutes later, the couple arrived to Ramona's house. The couple stood once more in front of the door, and rang the bell.

"You know what to do right?" asked Ramona.

"Yeah, yeah, i give him the present, say im sorry for being a dick, etcetera etcetera. It's not the first time i apologize to someone you know?" answered Robert as he rang the bell again.

"Do you smell that?" asked Robert sniffing around.

"Ah, yeah, Scott's making dinner." answered Ramona as the door opened, the couple entered and saw Scott running back to the kitchen, ignoring them.

"Hey Rammy! Hey Robert!" yelled Scott as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey Scott, what's for dinner?" asked Ramona as she made her way to the kitchen as well.

"Dinner? Oh... yeah, i was actually practicing with my recipes... do you guys want tacos?" said Scott as Robert and Ramona entered the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ Scott this is a mess! Can you be any more unconsiderate? You're cleaning this one later." said Ramona.

_And__ So..._

"I can't believe i'm eating this. Goddamn you delicious México." said Robert as he took a bite from his taco.

"What's the deal between you and México anyways? You said that that asshole from last night called you mexican or something like that right?" asked Scott.

"I despise that hellhole. I lived there once, and i regret almost every single decisition i made in there. The only good thing i EVER did there was becoming friends with this cholo, Miguel. Cool guy, i actually wonder how he's doing. Oh, and before i forget, merry Christmas kid." said Robert as he lended Scott a bag. Scott pulled out a videogame from it. The label said "_Tony Hawk's Underground 2_"

"Now please stop hitting me with your shoulder Ramona."

"Wait a goddamn second, did you just said "Cholo"?!" asked Ramona.

"Oh right, México's a shithole kiddo. Don't be surprised. Now, let's play the goddamn game." said Robert as he got up from the table. Scott followed him with the game in hand.

"Sooo, how did you know i like the Tony Hawk's saga?" asked Scott as he pulled out his Playstation 2 from under the TV.

"Actually, i just went with Ramona to Kim's video store to get a movie and she told me you were some kind of "videogame junkie" and i've been 7 years without playing this kiddo so you don't..." Suddenly, something flew into Robert's flace, something with a lot of hair, Scott turned to see Gideon **(The cat, not the bad guy.)** pouncing Robert's face.

**"GET IT OFF ME! JESUS CHRIST I'VE BEEN ATTACKED BY GARFIELD! SHOOT IT IN THE FACE! SHOOT IT IN THE FACE!"**

* * *

"I can't believe you got your ass handed by Gideon." said Ramona as she poured alcohol in Robert's wounds.

"Shut up. And be more careful with that cotton, i can't breathe dammit."

* * *

**_(Soundtrack Note: Killer 7 OST, Taxidermy)_**

The cold air of the night whistled in the concrete jungle as Robert got out of his car and walked straight to the cold, empty streets. He lit up a cigar before closing the car door and walking away from the parking lot in which he was standing. A short walk later he saw a gigantic church in front of him. He thew the cigar away and took a deep breath, smoke flying out off his mouth.

He stared at the moon, Robert had always been a man of the dark, so that sight made him less nervous. The man slowly approached the building and pulled out a revolver out of his black jacket. He slowly opened the door and entered the Church.

A strange figure stood in the altar. He had his back turned and wore a brown suit, with a matching hat.

Robert recognized him as the moon slowly rose over the glass, reflecting the old man's shadows over Robert's. The figure turned around.

"Nice to see you again Manny." grinned the old man, revealing the multiple gunshots he man had on his suit.

_"Ahhh... how long has it been?"_

"Real fucking long I would say." "Five years." Grinned Rodriguez.

"Time goes fast, doesn't it?" The figure asked amused, tilting his head as he did so.

"You sure know a lot about that, old man."

"Ah, such disrespect, but that's what I have to stand thanks to your generation. Let's adress the Elephant on the room, shall we?" The old man got off the stage and walked towards Robert.

"Like the fact that you have been dead for Five years?!" Yelled Robert, rage building up on his words.

"Am I, Robert? I'm surprised you know so much about this situation, considering you didn't see jackshit." The man pulled out a pistol and cocked it.

"You aren't real. We both know what happened down there."

"Real... let me ask you one thing kid, What... is real right now? Because, if you ask me, none of this makes any goddamn sense. Why did you got off that car? Why did you came here? Why are we in a Church, in god knows where about to shoot each other? Where is that music coming from? This isn't real kid."

"Then I guess this is a nightmare." Robert pulled the pin of his revolver.

_"Now you are starting to get it. Time to wake up."  
_

Both man rose their guns at each other.


	7. Life Goes On (Part 2)

**_A/N:Okay, i owe you some explanations... Highschool sucks what the fuck can i tell you? Writing in a language that you don't dominate is still hard when it comes to writing down action sequences, worst is writing what happens BEFORE those sequences, lucky me, i got the best crew of supporting friends! So, thank you very much... wait let me get the list... thanks to my brother Sergio for beggining to read this crazy train heading for ka-boum ville, Nomad, Wolf, The Dude and Sheridan who came up with The Greasy Pennies' name and lyrics and YOU asswipe for anonimously reading this. _**

**_-Al._**

**_Now let's keep going were we left off._**

* * *

"So, wanna get "intimate" Rammy?" said Scott as he got closer to his girlfriend.

"Scott, did you forgot what happened last time we "got intimate" with a guest? Christ, i couldn't look Kim on the face for a week."

"But that was the other apartment! I mean... i don't think he would mind anyways right?..." said Scott as he began kissing Ramona's neck.

"Well, maybe if we keep it dow..." before Ramona could finish her sentence, a scream rang throught the house. Scott and Ramona quickly got downstairs to see Robert on the ground, pointing at the couple with a pistol on his hands.

"**WHO'S THERE?!**" yelled Robert before he realized where he was and lowered the gun.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?! Do you have a mental sickness or something?" asked Ramona angry.

"Well... I...Wait... i can-i can explain... just- jus-... **SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! YOU CAN'T KICK ME OUT NOW PLEASE! THEY'RE CHASING ME! I KNOW IT! THEY'RE CHASING ME I SWEAR! **you can't kick me out, please... im begging you, i have problems... but who doesn't... i'll pay this back, i swear, just give me some time... a little more time... we all do mistakes, but who doesn't?!" begged Robert as he nailed to his knees, begged and then hugged Ramona's legs.

"Get off me! Im not kicking you out!" answered Ramona as she **(ironically)** kicked Robert off her legs. "Just tell us what is wrong with you!"

Robert hesitated for a second before getting up.

"I... had a dream... i _might_ have saw a man... that i_ might_ met in the past... a man that i _**MIGHT**_ i killed years ago..."

"Wait you're a killer?!" asked Scott excited.

"Yeah, i am, and i bet you're laughting with this kid, but it's not funny, do you know how it feels to kill someone? To end their dammed existance right in the spot they're standing in?! Seeing them never get up again?! Do you?"

"Actually... i kinda do know."

"Wait what?!"

"Yeah, like seven people... a couple of years ago... it was a ride actually! That's how i met Ramona!"

"Are you _fu-fu-_ **fucking kidding me!?**"

"Can we get back to when **YOU** were explaining why do you have a gun?! Or gee, i don't know! How about why are you having mental breakdowns like you were some kind of psicopath, which im pretty sure you are by the way! Look, Robert, you are a good guy and all, but you have an obvious problem. Tell us what's happening ok? We will understand, we've been there, well, i've been there. We are your friends. Tell us." said Ramona as she slowly grabbed took Robert's pistol off his hands.

"Ok... just let me calm down a little..."

* * *

"Look... It's hard to put this together so i'm leaving some details off, short version is that i used to live in Spain, yes, Spain, all the way up in Europe, well, i kinda worked for a company... who might had been doing evil things behind the workers backs... i eventually found out some time before doing a trip to México, and for what i barely remember... i got drunk, menaced my boss to call the cops, pissed on his desk and left. I completly forgot about that night, but my boss didn't. So he sacrificed a major "business" operation to get rid of the me. The night before the deal, some jackass dressed out like me and did nasty things to certain people, so when i woke up next day..."

Robert tried to finish the sentence but he clenched both his fists in anger and punched the wall next to him. "Fuck that hurts" he said as he sit back in his chair.

"Let's just say that's how i met that "Miguel" fella i talked about before. He saved my ass that day and got blamed as well so we became friends, we splitted last year in New York and then... well you know the rest."

"That explains a lot." said Ramona surprised.

"Also, it's worth mentioning that i had multiple drug addictions in my 5 years as a criminal." answered Robert now more calm.

"And that explains the rest."

"Look, you have to keep this as a secret, im retired, my career? it's over, but if people find out about this, it's bye-bye Toronto for me, so **PLEASE** do me this favour, i know i've been the worst roommate in the last 2 days, but i swear i'll pay you this back, all of it, when im done repaying you'll be on the fucking stars i promise."

"It's not like we were going to announce it anyways..." said Ramona as she rose both her arms in a "whatever" motion. "But ok, we both promise not to tell a word no matter what happens. Happy?"

"Pretty much. I better go to sleep again." Robert got up and walked back to the couch.

"Goodnight. And please don't make moaning sounds." said Robert as he pulled his pillow over his head and went to sleep.

"Wait... you heard it all?!"

* * *

_Stills' Place, The Next day._

"Where did Robert got that guitar again?" asked Stephen_ "The Talent"_ Stills **(I really ran out of ideas to write in here.)** as he tuned his own guitar.

"I dunno, it was there when Ramona and i woke up." answered Scott as he tuned his _Rickenbacker. _**(Reader's note: Didn't that bass break in Vol. 5?!) (RR note:Yeah... he fixed it, now shut up and read.)**

"I know a guy. That's all you gotta know." interrupted Robert after he finished tuning his _Gibson SG _and plugged it to an amp. "Soooo, how do we do this again? Do you give me the tabs and i learn them or do just play some covers?"_  
_

**_And then, an awkward silence filled the room._**

"Do you hear that Stephen? That's the magnificent sound of _**I. TOLD. YOU. SO**._" said Kim almost with a grin, breaking the silence.

"Well... this is where the bad news come in Robert." Stills sat on his amp and tried to explain himself. "You see, all of our songs have only one guitar... mine to be more specific. So, to prove yourself capable of becoming a member of Sex-bob-omb... you're going to fix that."

"And i suppose you are helping me with this right?"

"Right. Last thing i want is you butchering our repertoire."

"Are you guys going to play something or what?" asked Young Neil, sitting on the couch in front of them next to Knives.

"And what would that suppose to be, i only know punk songs and the entire _Smashing Pumpkings_' discography!"

**"WE ARE SEX-BOB-OMB, AND WE ARE PLAYING "CHERUB ROCK"! **yelled Kim at the top of her lungs as she clashed her drumsticks together, ready to play.**  
**

** ONE, **

**TWO, **

**THREE,**

** FOUR! **

* * *

_Hours Later._

"Ok, you gotta tell me where you got that guitar man." asked Scott as he walked down the street back home with Robert.

"You know, i think you woulda figured it out by now kid." answered Robert in a mix of dissapoinment and surprise.

"Well... i..." Scott tried to form a sentence without result.

"Some people i know owe me cash or... "other things", i just had to make a call to a pawn shop and ask for the gibson guitar they always have on those joints. Easy."

For the next ten minutes the couple would be silently walking the long road back home, only interrupted by the occasional car. After much thinking, Robert decided to talk.

"Soooo... mind if i ask you a question?" said Robert as he pulled a carton of cigarretes from his jacket.

"You are already asking one." answered Scott.

"Real funny." he muttered before lighting a cigarrete.

"You can just ask me, i don't mind."

"Okay... got any advices for... well... dating?"

"Dating? Like , with girls?"

**"YES. SCOTT, LIKE** **GIRLS." **at this point Robert was already tired of the dumbass right next to him.**  
**

"Ey, chill! no need to be violent! Why do you need advices for that anyways?"

"How fucking dumb are you Scott? You tell me why i want tips for dating!

"Because... you wanna date someone?"

"Bin-fucking-go. Took you a while to figure out didn't you?"

"Why do you need advices for that!?" Robert facepalmed.

"Maybe because i wanna date someone? Maybe because i want to punch you in the face, or maybe i just like asking questions to a retarded _canuck._"

"Eh, no need to be a dick you know?... Wait a second, you wanna date someone? Who?! And why me?!"

"Yes, Knives Chau, and because you somehow managed to get Flowers in your bed, in that order."

**"YOU WANNA DATE KNIVES?!"**

* * *

**"**_Ey! You reached Knives Chau, im kinda busy at the moment, so if you leave me a message i'll try to answer it later. Here comes the "beep"!" **BEEP.**  
_

"Ermmm, hi, this is... Robert, the guy that Kim introduced to me the other night, soo, wanna hang up?" Robert could hear the giggles of his roommates right behind him as he spoke to the phone.

"Sure, i can hang up, where?" Knives' voice came as a surprise to Robert, who dropped the phone accidently on the floor. Ramona and Scott couldn't handle it anymore and began laughting loudly.

"SHUT UP!" he yelled before picking up the phone again. "_Anywhere you want."_ he answered to the phone.

"Right, i forgot, you're not from here, sure, i'll give you the local rundown if that's what you want, meet me tomorrow at... i dunno, eight o' clock? Yeah, eight o' clock, i'll see you in your place." said Knives.

"Ramona's place." Knives began laughting as well from the other line. "Oh **god**, _how did i forgot about that part...?"_ she said laughting. Robert hung up and slowly turned around to see both his roommates rolling in the floor laughting.

"We're really don't mean it... it's just so cute and funny at the same time!" tried to explain Ramona still laughting.

* * *

"And here it is! Sneaky Dee's! Good drinks, godawful food and free bands on Fridays!" said Knives to her partner hours later in front of the venue. The sign, along with the entire bar was covered up with graffiti, both on the inside and outside. The bar seemed almost full from the outside as every table was filled with patrons and drunktards.

"Right, so how do you know about this place again?" asked Robert as he and Knives got inside. The smell of fresh concert, drinks and chaos entered in both their heads in an instant.

"Well, Pilgrim and the guys hung up here all the time and they invited me sometimes, it kinda sucked, mostly because i was socially denied, but at least the drinks were ok. C'mon let's get upstairs, they're playing a show in there!" said Knives as she run upstairs excited.

"There's actually shows on this shithole?!" said Robert before getting hard looks from every single patron on the bar and staircase.

"Oh please, i've seen skateparks cleaner than this place."

"That's the joke asshole!" yelled one of the patrons.

"Look how i laugh. **HAH. HAH.**" The patron pulled him the middle finger. Knives grabbed Robert by his shirt's neck and dragged him upstairs.

"So much for the "Canadian Kindness" part." he muttered.

"You know, they aren't going to be kind if your are a complete asshole with everyone."

"Right, **_eh?_"**

"Really? You are going **THAT **low?"

"I've been wanting to drop that one since i got here!" said Robert as the couple got to the upper floor, where the concert was about to begin.

A man came into backstage and grabbed the mic.

**"Okay, testing... one, two... okay it works.****"  
**

**"WEEEEELCOME TO SNEAKY DEE'S INDIE FRIDAYS PEOPLE, IM GLAD TO HAVE YOU ALL HERE! TODAY WE HAVE A NEW BAND THAT HAS NEVER PLAYED BEFORE HERE! SO BE GENTLE! COMING FROM... WELL, NO ONE KNOWS! LADIES AND GENTLEMAN PREPARE YOR EARS TO THE SOUNDS OF... THE GREASY... PEANIES!" **said the man before a group of poorly dressed "musicians" came onto stage. The bassist was dressed like a galm rocker, the drummer looked drunk and dressed like a junkie, and the guitarrist/vocalist was dressed like a _greaser._**  
**

"Okay, fuck this, Knives, i got an idea." said Robert as soon as he saw the band grabbing their instrumments.

"Wait what? C'mon man don't judge the book by its cover!"

**"Ey cool cats and gals..." **

"Im in."

"Right, we're gonna need instruments, something that can knock down those asswipes... and booze. _**A** **lot. Of.**_** Booze.**"

* * *

_5 Minutes Later._

"I think my ears bleed." said Knives as she finished her bottle of beer and stood up from the chair she was sitting on. The upper floor was half empty, whoever didn't leave after the first 20 seconds of The Greasy Penies' first song was drunk up their asses or wanting to crack the singer's head in. The band kept playing godawful "music".

"Agreed. You located all our... _tools_?" asked Robert to his date.

"Well, those suckers have the instruments..."

**"WALKING ON THE STREET! **

**HOT BITCH WALKS IN..." **

"How in the name of fuck can they call themselfs _Alt music_ anyways?!" yelled Robert.

"We are drunk enough to barely **stand...**"

"Oh please, i've been drunker than this!" Knives strongly stepped on Robert's foot before grabbing his head and bringing his face next to hers. "Please don't interrupt me again in your entire life Robert." Knives released Ro. "As i was saying... we could use some beer barrels to take care of those jackasses."

"Right... that... was..." Robert shaked his head and got back to his senses. "Ehh... i don't wanna go to jail yet Knives. Let's use something less... deadly... if... you're fine... with that." said the man scared.

"Did you really got scared by that you crybaby?"

"Can we just grab the amps they're using and knock them the fuck out?!"

"Sounds like a plan." the couple nodded and made their way onto the stage.

**"REAL ARMADILLO!"**

"Ready?" asked Robert.

**"EATING MY VINILLOS!"**

"Ready." answered Knives.

They both climbed into stage.

"**EY, WE GOT 2 JUMPERS IN HERE! ROCK O-" **before the greaser could even finish his sentence Robert headbutted him in the face, throwing him down to the ground and making the crowd go nuts.

The bassist swang his bass at Knives, who dodged it without problem and kicked him off stage with both her legs. The man fell on top of the crowd.

_**"BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM-"**_ Knives turned around to see Robert hitting the drummer with his own drums in the face.

"DRUM SOLO BITCH!" he said before breaking the drum inside the man's head. He then grabbed the drummer's microphone and yelled to the crowd.

**"Alcohol is supreme...-hic- i am a retard... AND WE'RE BOTH STEALING THE SHOW BITCHES!"  
**

_"Robert..." _the man felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"What?"

_"Look down."_ Knives pointed to the he the bouncers, bandmates, and drunk patrons that were climbing the stage to get the couple.

"Oh crap." he quickly grabbed the microphone stand and hit The Greasy Pennies' singer,who was trying to climb back to stage. Knives grabbed his hand and jumped off stage, dragging Robert with her, landing away from the danger zone. The man landed sideways, but quickly recovered and began running into the crowd of people that were standing between them and the staircase. Knives felt something grabbing her, a guard managed to catch her by the arm.

"Get off me you dumb...ass!" Knives kicked the man in the gut and hitted the man with the back of her hand, sending him flying on the air. Knives quickly catched Rob. "You ok?" he asked.

Then they went downstairs...

_Into the the door..._

**_And off we go._**

* * *

_Will continue on "Life Goes On, part 3" Shit is about to break loose.  
_


	8. Life Goes On (last part)

_**A/N, READ IT OR I'LL CUT YOUR ARM OFF**: _So, you can freely call this "the love chapter" because ho-ly shit do i go over the barrier in this one. _(Don't worry, no detailed erotica, i hate that)_ but yeah, you wanted **EMOTIONS?! HERE'S SOME FUCKING EMOTIONS**. Also... yeah, this is going to be long.

Like, i gotta cover the rest of the chapter_** (which at this rate would be the equivalent of THE ENTIRE VOL. 2 OF THE ORIGINAL SCOTT PILGRIM COMICS) **_here.

Because rule of three bitches. Gotta keep the tradition somehow.

(Wait wasn't Knives Pens and Guns four parts long...?)

Actually... scratch "love chapter", i think this would be better as "I-finally-fulfill-my-promises" chapter.

**BECAUSE I FINALLY BEGAN WITH SOMEBODY ELSE'S PERSPECTIVE.**

Please any Robert+Knives submissions can go into this incinerator right here thank you. (Actually don't, i want them. On my wall. PLEASE.)

Im not regretting starting with such an ambicious proyect at all shut up.

Also, i need to make my chapters LONGER as everything i wrote was actually kinda short.

**FUCK.**

But yeah, long chapter, see you in the other side.

**Oh, and special thanks go again to Nomad and The Dude, who helped me with this episode's structure!**

**BACK TO THE SEX**

* * *

They were kissing.

One minute ago they were hiding from security in dumpters, someone said something Knives couldn't remember, or that she didn't want to remember, and she found herself kissing the man next to her.

She could still remember the frantic screams of security as they both ran away from the _Sneaky Dee's_ bouncers. Guiding Robert to that alleyway they were both hiding in and the angry screams of the band they humilliated not long ago. She didn't know why was she doing this, _"Was it the booze?"_

_ "Was it the adrenaline?" _

_"Was it love?" _

_"Does it even matter?"_

Suddenly, Robert began moving his arms up and down, and pushed Knives off his mouth.

"Ok, stop, no really, im serious, i know this is cliché as shit, and dear god i hate clichés, but i can't do it."

_"What?!" _she thought.

"What do you mean by "can't do it"?! You call me on a date, you seduce me and now you say you can't do it!?"

"It's not like that! Look!... it's... well... kinda of a secret..."

"Robert you are the worst at keeping secrets and you know, you literally took 2 days before telling Ramona you were a con-man!"

_**"**_**HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT!?" **yelled Robert surprised.**  
**

"Wallace told me!"

**"WHO IS WALLACE? HOW DOES HE KNOW ME?"**

_"Oh, boy."  
_

"Look, it's a long story, i'll explain later, now,** TELL ME WHY!**" Knives pushed Robert against a wall, and began chocking him with her elbow. Robert tried to fight back, to no result.

"Does it have to do with my father!?"

"Yeeeeeesjjjjjjjjjjg-" Knives released Robert, and fell flat against the wall.

_"Of course it had to be **him.**"_

"Knives, you won't believe the kind of thin-"

"Nonononono, i know what kind of things he told you." Interrupted Knives. "You're not my first... well, boyfriend you know?" she said as she sat next to Robert. "My father... is kinda overprotective."

"No shit."

"He chopped an entire train in half just to get my last boyfriend, so yeah..."

"Well, ashes to ashes i guess." he said as he pulled out a wrinkled box of cigarretes off his pocket. **(Reader's note: Is this "cigarrete obssesion" going to be a thing?) (Ryderrosas note: SHUT UP.)**

"It was Pilgrim."

_"Why did i just said that?." _inmediatly thought Knives.

"Oh yeah, Kim mentioned that... Want one?" said the man as he offered a cigarrete to his couple. Knives hesitated before grabbing it. Robert then pulled out a white cigarrete and lighted it on.

"Ahhhh.. i missed this shit right here." said Robert as he inspired the smoke.

"You are smoking joint?!" said Knives after looking at the "cigarrete" closer.

"Oh please, it's just a bit of grass, they call it "medicinal" for a reason." explained Robert.

"Drugs."

"Can we get back to the part where we talked about your insane father?"

"Oh, please, as long as he doesn't find out we're actually dating he won't come after you. He keeps overestimating his intimation skills."

"So what, we make out in dark alleways and stolen cars?"

"Look, we'll manage, now let's go home, i'm tired." said Knives as she got up and left the alleyway with Robert.

"No time for a quick one?"

Knives stared at Robert awkwardly.

"I...was joking?"

* * *

The couple safely left the alleway and walked the long way back home from Sneaky Dee's in silence.

"You know? For an strange reason i can't stop but thinking what are Ramona and Scott doing right now." said Robert.

_**MEANWHILE IN SCOTT AND RAMONA'S BED...**_

_"_FASTER!

_STRONGER!_

_** DEEPER!**"**  
**_

**_ (RyderRosas note: Im not sorry at all.)_**

**"YES! YES! YE-_(Reader's note: YOU SHOULD)_**

_**BACK TO OUR OTHER HEROES**_

"Probably playing videogames or something" asnwered Knives.

"Buncha nerds."

They both shared a chuckle.

"So...how old are you Robert?" asked Knives.

"You aren't very sutile with this kinda shit aren't you?"

"Im not gonna lie, im not."

"Twenty-nine" he answered.

"You've got to be kidding me." **(RyderRosas Note: 20 points to whoever gets the joke!) **

"I know, i look younger."

"No. It's... well, believe me you wouldn't like it. I'm Twenty."

"Since we are having an interrogation on the way home, i think i desserve a couple of questions don't i?"

"Sure, shoot."

"Well.. to begin...who is Wallace?"

"Oh... right, well... he's Scott gay ex-roommate, who has psychic powers and can find out secrets about anybody in the entire world and send them to all his contacts in a heartbeat."

"Please tell me he didn't send my secret to all contacts."

"Nope. Got sure of it. I mean, so what, you were on the mafia, or in some street gang? Who cares? You are here now!"

_"Oh god yes, that Wallace guy is stupid."_ thought Robert.

"That's all Wallace knows... right?"

"Yeah, don't go nuts about it. Okay, my turn... favourite colour?"

"Black, blue and red, in that order."

"Mine's red. Where were you born?"

"Spain, and boy, i hated that place."

"Well, you should know by now! Altrough i'm half chinese, or that's what dad says. Okay... next one... next one..."

"Where did you got your suit?"

**...**

"Really? You are wasting a free question on this broken down suit?"

"I feel curious!"

"Okay then, but this is your last question."

* * *

**"JESUS CHRIST FROM WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM!?" **

Robert was back to back with another man, sharpnel flying next to his face, he heard frantic screams around him, he felt the cold heavy steel on his hands, the broken windows letting the sweet, sweet darkness enter into the massacre he was not only witnessing, but making.

Screams rang through the destroyed office complex in which Robert found himself in, cubiculums being shredded to pieces, people dying around him, the warm feeling of his companion's back pressing against his, the cold night air in his cheeks...

He lived for that.

He felt that already familiar adrenaline rush, and raised his weapon, a modified M16 assault rifle, and shot the group of mobsters that were taking cover on behind the office doors and cubiculums.

"No offense, but this has to be the shittiest plan you ever had!" yelled Robert

"Did you had any better ideas?!" answered the suited man as he threw down his shotgun and pulled a revolver out of his jacket.

"Oh yeah, that's why we can't just wait for them to fuck up, no! We have to get in, guns blazing into an entire complex filled with **THEM**!" said Robert as he reloaded his rifle.

"Yeah, you're right! We better leave that asshole leave safely! It's not like im risking my life for you or anything!" he yelled as he shot and killed three more mobsters.

**"BECAUSE GETTING KILLED FOR THEM IT'S SUCH WORTH IT!" **Robert shot dead 4 more mobsters.

**"WELL FUCK YOU THEN, DON'T GO CRYING ON MY ASS IF YOUR ARCHNEMESIS APPEARS IN TOWN OR SOMETHING!" **yelled his companion angry as he reloaded his revolver.

**"I DON'T THINK I WOULD COMPLAIN!" **Robert's voice filled with anger aswell as he killed the last mobster on his side.

**"OH BOO-HOO MIGUEL, _-BANG-_ HE RUINED MY LIFE!_-BANG-_ HE CAN'T_-BANG-_ GET AWAY_-BANG-_ WITH THIS! THAT'S HOW YOU SOUNDED!_-BANG-_ THAT'S. HOW. YOU_.-BANG_\- SOUNDED!"**

_**-BANG-**_

And with that last shot, Robert and Miguel were the last ones standing.

Robert turned around and looked to his friend annoyed.

"How did we even survived that?!"

"Do you think i kn-" before Miguel could finish his sentence the elevator rang, and its doors opened, three man stood in front of the young criminals. They all wore light brown suits, except one of them, who wore a black suit and had two golden pistols in his hands. The other two members were armed with an Ak-47 and a long hunting knife.

Both groups stood in silence. Then Robert took a step forward, resting his rifle in his shoulder.

"And here we got them! The lapdogs!-Robert took the pleasure to clap at the trio.- Took you long enough, i bet your boss is so pleased with you... waiting until everybody else is dead to show up! You might wanna know why we just killed the entire security force on this bulding right?"

They didn't answer.

"You see, i came here to see the devil..." Robert pointed his rifle at the group.

_**"NOW IT'S YOUR TURN!"**_**  
**

Bullets rained into the group of assassins,the rifleman tried to cover in the remmains of the cubiculums and returned fire, forcing Robert to run for cover aswell before taking a shot. A bulled hitted Robert in the shoulder, blood and muscles rained in a painful shower that forced Robert to get down to cover before holding his new wound.

"Okay, maybe i understimated you a little!" yelled the man to his enemy before shooting him back, giving him the chance to advance to another cover. He saw the man with the white suit standing still in front of the elevator, ignoring him as he slide into the a room to find cover. The door was already gone, so Robert managed to easily shoot his attacker.

He pointed his M16 and shot, hitting his objective right in the chest. The man dropped, but in the last second he pulled out a m1911 and managed to land a bullet on Robert's leg. Robert managed to jump to cover before falling down to the ground.

Robert pulled out a needle out his pocket and stuck in down deep on his own leg, easing the pain. He inspected his leg, the bullet passed clean through him.

Lucky.

He reloaded his rifle and stood up, unfortunetly, he was greeted by a non-familiar face.

_"Peek-a-boo motherfucker."_ Robert saw the long blade of the second assasin, who managed to pounce him, jumping through the window and throwing him to the ground before trying to stab him in the face, only to be stopped by Robert's grip.

Both man struggled for a while, Robert spat the man in the face, giving him enough time to knee him in the groin and get out of the room, only to get shot in the same leg by the already downed rifleman, throwing Rodriguez to the ground, who pulled out his sidearm and shot him between his eyes. The other assassin took this as a chance and and thew a knife into Robert's hand, suscessfully nailing it on the ground.

He then casually walked to Robert, knowing he couldn't go anywhere, smiling while doing so. He pulled out a butterfly knife out of his pocket.

"Fuck fuck fuck **FUCK!**" yelled Rodriguez as he tried to get the blade out of his left hand.

Suddenly, Robert's vision went completely static and the assassin was not there anymore, instead a shadow stood above him. He looked at his companion, who wasn't moving from his spot, focused on the shadow.

"MIGUEL! Lend me a hand here!"

He didn't move.

Robert began to lose hope. **_"Help me you fucking bum!" _**yelled the man as he managed to get a clean look on the shadow, right before his blood ran cold after doing so. She was a young hispanic blonde woman, her yellow hairs mixed with the thick blood that was coming out of the big crack on her head, her blue eyes covered in tears, her skin pale as death's skin itself. She spoke in a gentle ghostly voice.

_"It's been a long__ time."_

"What the..."

_"You don't look so well."_

I... Robert tried to talk, to no avail.

_"I miss you. ___I wish you never left."__

__"I love you."__

"Why are you here?! Why is everyone coming back to me now!? _**WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESSERVE THIS!?**_" yelled Robert, his mind remembering the church and the full moon.

_"You tell me."_

"Im sorry. Im so sorry."

* * *

**_"And why should be sorry? I just told you the truth dummy!_**"

Suddenly, Robert was back in reality, in front of Ramona's house with Knives between his hands, hugging him tightly. He took a while to answer to the young girl.

"I... i...i... i love you too."

"It was the best date i've had in my entire life. Thanks for inviting me."

Robert didn't spoke.

Knives released him, he stood still, looking at nowhere.

"Are you ok?"

Silence.

"You don't wanna know." he said before turning away from her.

"Robert?" She asked scared as the man grabbed the keys to the house from his jacket.

"You **don't** wanna know." stated Robert before entering the house and closing the door behind him.

* * *

Knives stood there for a while, in front of Ramona's house, dwelling in her own throughts.

_"What the hell did just happened to him!?...Was it.. me? Did i had anything to do with that?!  
_

_"Did i..."  
_

_"I..."_

_"I.."_

She couldn't find the answer to that question.

_"Damn, it... doesn't matter. I have to talk to dad. I'm not making the same mistake twice."_

_"I'm sorry Robert."_

Knives turned around and walked back home, but not before giving a last glance to the house.

_"I really am."_

* * *

The house was completely dark, except the thin moonlight that peeked through the windows like a special type of stalker.

Robert peeked on one of the windows and saw Knives walking away from the house, her head pointing to the ground. The man felt his heart sink.

But he needed to get away from her right now, he couldn't risk it again like that, whatever happened back there, it was bad, he was losing it.

Again.

There was only one way of fixing that.

Robert quickly made his way upstairs and knocked in Ramona's door. The sounds that came from inside the room were not pleasing.

"Robert? Is that you?" asked Ramona from inside the room.

"Yep. Flesh and bone." asnwered the Spaniard.

"We are kinda busy now Robert, could you come back later?" said Scott.

"Actually... do you know where i can find some painkillers?"

"Why do you want painkillers Robert?" asked Ramona again.

"..." Robert didn't answer.

"Roooberttttttt?"

"My teeth hurt, now PLEASE tell me Ramona, im being nice dammit."

The girl sighted.

"Downstairs, in the bathroom."

"Thanks."

* * *

2 minutes later, Robert sat on the couch, with a half empty bottle of whiskey on one hand, and an empty bottle of painkillers on the other. He took off his jacket and had one large sip of the whiskey bottle before looking at his side, where his phone was.

_"Oh, what the hell." _muttered the Spaniard as he grabbed it.

"Who are you going to call?" Robert heard Ramona's soft voice behind him, he knew she was more than worried, but he didn't care.

"Calling someone." he splat annoyed in a low tone.

"I'm guessing the date didn't went well."

"Actually, it was great. The problem was another thing."

"Mind if you tell me what was that?"

"It's a long story, believe me, too complicated." dismissed the man waving his arm to Ramona, telling her to go away.

"Robert..."

"Are we really going through this shit again Ramona? Are we? Because believe me, i **DON'T** have the patience to deal with this again, in fact, i would prefer to chat up Scott right now before dealing with another "help" talk."

Robert took a long breath and massaged the top of his head slowly, letting out some of the stress he had accumulated with his answer.

"The date went alright, i just had a small mental breakdown. You happy now?"

"Yes."

"Then goodnight Ramona, enjoy the cigarrete or whatever." Robert heard Ramona's footsteps as she went upstairs, and threw the painkillers away from him.

* * *

_Beeep_

_Beeep_

_Bee-_

_"Yeah?"_

"Hey Kim."

_"Well, if it isn't the most sociable man in the world." _said Kim after recognizing the man's voice._  
_

"You are still mad about that aren't you?"

_"Aren't you a smart one?"_

"Fine, be a bitch."

_"What do you want?" _asked Kim annoyed.

"Apologize."

_"That's actually mature from your part."_

"Thanks."

_"Who are you and what did you do with Robert?"_

"You are not a nice person aren't you Kimberly?"

_"And the award of brightest man on the world goes to..."_

"And you are laughting your ass off aren't you?"

Kim laughted a little.

_"Maybe."_

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

_"Eh, at least you apologized. Sure."_

"Thanks. Goodnight Kim." said Robert more cheered up.

_"Goodnight Robert, see you in band practice." _said Kim before the line went dead.

Robert threw the phone away, and took another sip of the whiskey bottle.

Empty.

He dropped the bottle and laid down on the couch.

"Jesus christ and this is just my first week in this place..." he covered his face with his hands and prayed to forget.

No such luck.

The man slowly drifted to sleep with one thought on his mind.

_"I wish you never left." _

* * *

**_2 Weeks Later_**

"Scott, that was my toast." said Kim Pine in a very annoyed tone.

**(Ryderrosas note: Oh wait, i almost forgot, THIS FUCKING STORY IS ABOUT SCOTT.)**

"Whaaaaat?" asked Scott, bread flying out of his mouth.

_**Kim Pine's House.**_

**(RyderRosas note: GODFUCKINGDAMMIT)  
**

"Dude i told you like a million times that was my toast!" added Kim before taking a large sip of coffee to calm her nerves.

"I don't see her name anywhe..." Kim showed Scott a bag of bread with the words "Kim's Bread" painted on them.

"Ups."

"Jesus christ kiddo, you gotta learn to pay attention, or you are going to have some serious problems soon enough." said Robert Rodriguez, as he sat down next to the couple and rested his own cup on the kitchen table.

"He already had problems with people trying to trick him! And he always ended up fighting them!"

Scott began to lose drift of the conversation again, he had been having some problems when it came to sleep and those were making his life harder, as he kept losing focus on work and home. At first, he blamed throught it was because of living with a retired criminal, but Robert was a nice guy, even if he did some bad things as he kept saying to him and Rammy, but nontheless, it was kinda weird and scary to live to a guy that was constantly armed and paranoic.

"Oh, for the love of god, WAKE UP SCOTTY!" heard our hero as he violently woke up. "Stills, can we hurry up, i don't want to spend my Saturday evening dragging his ass back home." Scott turned his head around to see Stephen Stills entering the room with a whiteboard in his left arm and markers in his right hand.

"Right, first things, first, we gotta thank Kim for leaving us doing us all this little favour." Explained Stills as he set up the whiteboard.

"Can we just cut to the chase?" demanded Kim.

_"Why do we have to do these things on the weekends?" thought Pilgrim.  
_

"Right, i have talked with some people and..."

"...And...?" asked Scott.

"...we've got a gig." Finished Stills, before hearing his bandmates' reactions.

_**"Holy shit, are you SERIOUS?"**_

**_"Really Stephen?... Really?"_**

**_"Oh cool, yeah... i'm going to take a nap now."_**

"Okay SHUT UP. SHUT. UP. This is bad, this is bad because i forgot to tell you this earlier, and now we have a big problem. And that's bad. Real BAD."

"Is it Robert?" asked Scott as he tried to sleep in the table.

"Well... yes."

"Is it the songs?"

"Yep."

"Great, just tell me what i missed later, goodnight." Scott used his arms as a pillow and tried to sleep once again, with no result.

"Don't we got his songs ready?" asked Kim.

"Only half of them, this little scared bitch is impossible to work with." explained Rodriguez.

Stills slammed the table with his left hand.

_"WHY CAN'T I JUST GET SOME RESTTTTTTTT?"_

"We are playing in The Garrison." Stills turned the blank page on the whiteboard, showing a drawning of the venue.

_"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE GARRISON, I CARE ABOUT SLEEPING, WHY CAN'T I HAVE THAT FOR ONCE!?"_

"Impressive Stills, who's cock did ya had to suck to get this one?" joked Rodriguez before a marker hit him in the face violently, knocking him off the chair.

"That hurt you slimey puta!"

"Okay, we got a gig, great, it's going to suck, amazing. I know there's a catch in here Stills. There's always a catch. What are you hiding in that whiteboard?" asked Kim. Scott lost the track of the meeting and closed his eyes.

"Stills? What _are you hidin... us?"_

_"...a point man..."_ Scott closed his eyes.

_"Well... you see... gig... is a gig..."_

_ZZZ_

_ZZZZZ_

_ZZZZZZ_

* * *

He fell to his knees, right after his sword flew out of his hands, arms loosing all the strenght he once had.

He was going to die.

After all the things he did, all the sacrifices and suffering, it was all going to end like this.

A lone figure stood in front of him, wielding a large sword on his hands, slowly walking towards him.

_"Wanna know the worst part of this?" _Spoke the figure with a mocking tone as he stopped next to him._  
_

**_"YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF!"  
_**

A sharp pain went thought Scott's chest, blood began to spur out, the sword stuck deep, slowly burning his insides before the sword was pulled out, alon-

* * *

_**"AHHHHHHHHHHHH**_

_**HHHHHHHHHHH**_

_**HHHHHHHHHHHHH**_

_**HHHHHHHHHHHH"**_ yelled Scott as he woke up and pulled _The Power of Self-Respect_ out of his chest, waving it like a madman to the rest of the band as he kept on screaming.

"OH GOD NOT THIS SHIT **AGAIN**! yelled Rodriguez as he jumped off his chair and punched Scott in the face, knocking him down to the ground. His sword falling next to him.

**...**

_"Did you REALLY had to punch him Robert?"_ Scott heard Kim's faint voice moments before regaining his coincence.

"You don't know how he has been lately Kim, it's karma i tell you! He's been doing that ever since i had that weird nightmare and pulled a gun on them!" yelled Rodriguez before realizing what he just said. "Oh... right, gun...it was kind of a birthday present."

"Sure thing buddy." returned Kim with a wide grin, beggining to understand what Robert was about.

"Go to hell." he answered as he offered a hand to Pilgrim, who was still hurting all over. "Sorry about that pal."

"No problem." said Pilgrim without thinking as he grabbed Robert's hand.

"Well, meeting adjourned, i guess." stated Stephen Stills before leaving the room with the whiteboard and markers in hand.

"God this is going to be a disaster." complained Kim as she followed Stills out.

"So... what did i missed?"

* * *

"...so yeah, we are the warm-up band, shitty, but hey, it's something." finished to explain Robert to Scott as they walked home.

"You are overreacting! We've been through worse, did i ever told you about our concert with the Clash and the Demonhead?"

"Yes. Four times already." answered Robert looking at the road, letting out a puff of smoke out off his mouth.

"Really?" asked Scott dissapointed.

"Yep." he said as he threw the cigarrete to the ground.

"Aren't you hot?" asked Scott, glancing to Robert.

"What!?"

"The winter jacket. I mean i know you are not from here but it's summer man, is it really that cold for you?"

_"Besides, you are wearing MY winter jacket. And jeans. And boots. And my pretty much everything."_

"Don't remind me it's going to get **worse **than this Scotty. How is this "warm" for you anyways?!" asked Rodriguez.

"I kinda lived my whole life here you know? Besides, it ain't that bad! You should go to the beach when it gets a bit warmer, you'll see."

"I'm already calling bullshit on that." luaghted Robert. "So... did you had the nightmare about getting chopped again?" he suddenly asked.

"Yeah..." answered Scott. It wasn't the first time they discussed this "nightmare" thing, and Scott wasn't very fond with it.

"Shit, if i were known this woulda happened to you i wouldn't have slept that night, sorry." apologized Robert akwardly.

"What? It ain't your fault man, okay maybe it has something to do with you, but it ain't your fault!... I think." grinned Scott.

"Right, i have a violent nightmare and almost kill everyone in a twenty-meter radius and you begin to do the same shit at the following week. Sure, not my fault at all, i clearly haven't awakened any lost traumas at all!" grinned Robert. "Fuck off."

"So... what songs we will play?" asked Scott.

"Well... about that..."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, i lied before, the chapter is not going to end with this, but I HAVE TO UPLOAD SOMETHING.**

**IT'S BEEN 3 GODDAMN MONTHS, "Life Goes On" has taken TOO MUCH OF MY TIME.**

**And well... i really really want an excuse to stop worrying and to chill the fuck out. I got loads of exams, and if i want to drop you guys something before my birthday, (Feb. 26) i think this is the best moment to do so. **

**Sooo, i guess i can give you a heads up of next chapter.**

_One new message from: Robert_

_-Trying to bang K_

_can't make it to band practice_

_Don' tell Kim._

**_Don't say i don't give you kids anything._**

_**In memory of Colin "Kitty0706" Wyckoff, **_

_**1994-2015.**_

_**We'll miss you fagola.**_


	9. The Garrison

**A/N:**

**Once again, thanks to Nomad, The Dude, Voice4themute, Yawn, Sheridan, Trixxiestixx, 101phase and DestinyPulledUsTogether for their help with this.**

* * *

_"And just when it was finally over._

_ I__ have to go through this shit again." _

Miguel got off his black sedan, tucking his 356. Magnum revolver in the back of his pants, trying not to look too ilegal for an early morning in Manhattan.

The Chaos Theatre. How long had it been since his last visit anyways? Not that it mattered anymore. Not even a year ago they were doing those fucking hits for The Graves' to get their freedom. _His __freedom_. And now _they _took it back from him.

Two weeks earlier he was going back home, finally relaxing for the first time in five years... And then he called.

That smooth jackass that he used to call "boss" asked his presence. He _**d**__**emanded it.**_ Like he were some kind of nobody, a pawn he could use even if he was saving his mother from having a heart attack or something.

He actually had the balls.

Now he was donning his old name, his old hawaiian shirt and his absurdly long old list of enemies.

Fun part is, he didn't even remember the smuck's name. It flew away from his mind the moment he splitted ways with him and his old partner.

Guess it was time to remember.

He entered the building, ready to see what was important enough to blackmail **him **about.

As soon as he entered the empty nightclub he was approached by a blonde woman with a ponytail and a pair of rimmed glasses. She wore a black uniform with the Chaos Theatre's logo on the back.

"Club's closed. You better leave bud..." Miguel tapped his collarbone with his middle finger.

"God, I hate that password. They are waiting for you." the girl waved Miguel to follow her as she entered the dancefloor, Miguel followed.

They walked through the empty nightclub, the Mexican was on high alert, for all he knew, his former boss was just trying to kill him and this meeting was just a trap. He could do that, he knew his tactics well enough, so he moved slow, trying to detect the possible ambush. The dance hall was completely empty, its neon lights turned off, the floors so clean you could eat in them. And not a single soul inside, behind, or hidden anywhere Miguel checked. The woman lead Miguel to her boss' office and turned around.

"He's inside with the others, I was never here."

Miguel waited for the girl to be completely gone before approaching the room, trying not to make noise as he opened the door and pulled his trusty revolver out of his pants. He found himself in front of a staircase, a wall next to the staircase itself. Miguel laid against the wall, and peeked his head, before taking the safety off his gun.

_"Right motherfucker, time to see what this meeting is about." _whispered Miguel as he slowly walked up the stairs, heading to the closed door that lead into his old boss' office.

Before he could get to the second step a voice cracked up behind him.

"You are still as paranoic as you were before, my old friend." Miguel just froze in place. He slowly turned around to see...

Nobody.

"I'm upstairs you idiot, there's cameras hidden on the walls. Now holster that revolver before you enter my office, please." Miguel tried to search the cameras as he complied. He felt exposed. Naked. So little time out of the loop and he was already getting sloppy.

The bad thing is that now he was alone and nobody could save his sorry ass when he fucked up. He slowly walked upstairs and opened the door, and there he was.

The Big Man.

The room was pitched black, giving Miguel a hard time to walk around. In fact, the only source of light in the entire room was the laptop computer that the big man was using.

There were other people on the room, sitting on two couches, as soon as Miguel walked in, everyone turned their eyes to him. They looked at him bored, barely interested at the newcomer's arrival.

"Took you a while. Now, if you please, take a seat." said the boss as he closed the computer.

_**"We have some business to discuss."**_

* * *

"This is going to suck." predicted Kim, sitting down on her drummer chair.

_**Stills' room: 7 days for The Garrison.**_

"We've been through woooooooorst!" moaned Scott, laid down on the bed with a pillow over his head next to Stephen Stills, who was just drinking whiskey desperately .

"We don't even have our second guitarrist in here! Where is he?!" yelled Stills.

_**BEEEEEEEEEEEP- **_Kim pulled out her phone.

_One new message from: Robert_

_-Trying to bang Knives_

_can't make it to band practice_

_Don' tell Kim._

"Of course he send it to me." said Kim as she grabbed Stills' booze and took a sip.

_**6 days left for The Garrison.**_

"Well... that was decent." said Ramona.

"I liked it." Knives tried to join.

"To be honest, you coulda done better." blankly stated Young **(Ryderrosas note: Er, shit, i mean...) **Neil.

**"WHO ARE WE TRYING TO FOOL?! THEY ARE GOING TO EAT US ALIVE!"** yelled Stills desperate. Robert lost his remaining patience.

**"THEN WHY DID YOU ACCEPT THE GIG YOU STUPID GODDAMN PIECE OF SHI-"**

* * *

_**5 days left for The Garrison. **_

"I can't believe we took a free day for this." said Robert as he grabbed another box with the label "Kim's stuff" written on it.

"Eh, you coulda have stayed at home." muttered Scott.

"And leave "_Roadkill" _to YOU?" laughted Robert. **"HAH."**

"Roadkill?" asked Stephen Stills, drum in hand.

"Its my car, I call however I want." stated Robert annoyed as he set the box on the back of Roadkill. "I throught Kim lived here for realsies!"

"Well, Sara and Kim used to be roommates two years ago in another apartment with two other chicks, but Kim got tired and left, her last roommate kicked her four weeks before you arrived and she had to call a favor on Sara."

"I really don't wanna know how Kim managed to get a favour outta that crazy bitch." joked Robert.

"Me neither." both man laughted.

"What's this briefcase doing here?" heard Robert before his smile dissapeared.

"Could you excuse me for a second Stephen?" asked Rodriguez before turning around and running to Scott, yelling to him as he did so.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT BRIEFCASE PILGRIM, I SWEAR TO GOD DON'T YOU DARE!"

_"What's even wrong with him?" _throught Stills as he walked back inside the apartment to grab the rest of Kim's drumset. He crossed the doorframe to bump into Kim herself, who dropped the box she had in hand.

"Okay i get it, i'm invisible to everyone, now open your eyes, damn it." said Kim.

"Sorry. Look, this is taking hours, how many boxes are there even left?"

"We're wraping out already, don't worry." stated Kim as she grabbed the box again and got out. Stills grabbed one of Kim's hit-hats and followed her outside, where Scott and Robert were yelling at each other.

"Great, they are doing it again." groaned Kim tired, getting close to the car. Stills saw Robert hiding something in the car's trunk before closing it, while yelling at Scott.

"What part of "Do not open my trunk" you don't UNDER-STAND?

"I... was curious?"

"Where's Ramona when you fucking need her!?" desespereatly yelled Robert.

"Language." said Kim as she passed both of them and left the box on the trunk, not even bothering to look at the case before heading back inside.

"Why can't you be like that Scotty? I'm serious. It's not that hard."

* * *

**_Kim's new place, 4 days left for The Garrison._**

"And...?" asked Robert excited.

"Well..." tried to put together Stephen Stills.

"This is actually pretty decent, well, i mean, its not godawful." stated Kim.

"You mean it?!, oh shit you actually mean it!" Robert exploded in joy and stood up off his chair. "YES!"

"The only problem is that you put our names in the lyrics..." Scott interfiered.

"Ey, what's wrong with a bit of shameless self-adverticing?" calmly said Robert, already with a celebratory bottle of booze in hand.

"You don't know what "self-adverticing" means don't you?" asked Stephen Stills.

"Nope." Robert took a sip of the bottle.

"Okay, let's play some music now." said Kim, grabbing her drumsticks.

"As long as you don't yell your lungs out this time..." Said Robert as he left the bottle on the table and grabbed his guitar.

* * *

"Gentleman, I have brought you all here to do justice. A man made an awful mistake long ago and i need your help to make him regret his decision. I know, this isn't worth blackmailing you Miguel, but I need you once more. We need one more man, and you're the only one available"-explained the big man to Miguel, who still hasn't sat down. Instead he just stood there, in front of him, as angry as he could be.

"Boss? I see _ONE _little problem in your little _FUCKING _plan, do you wanna know what that _**ONE **problem is!?" _Miguel grabbed the laptop and threw it on the ground, breaking it before slamming both his fists on the table.

**"THAT I'M NOT FUCKING AVAILABLE!"**

_*__Click-Clack__*_

One of the hitmen stood up from her seat, pulled a gun and pointed into Miguel's head.

"For the love of God, pull that weapon away." Ordered the boss.

"We should fucking kill you right here, ungrateful prick." Spoke an angry femimine voice.

"Miguel, i'm doing you a _big _favor here, as you can see, she's not really obedient when it comes to control."

"We made a deal you fucking rat. And you broke it." whispered Miguel overwelmed by resent towards his boss within breathing distance.

"You do know that anyone else would've got shot, right? That's how much i appreciate you."

"Do you really think i was just going to **_TAKE IT IN THE FUCKING ASS?!" _**

"Last one, i swear."

"That's what you said last time."

"I'll pay you."

"You fucking blackmailed me."

"Yes, to get you here, so i can give you a job, so i you do me a favor, so i can pay you an absurd amount of money. It's because you are my friend Miguel, but i know you are a knucklehead and would refuse the deal of your life. There's no evidence and no blackmail, you can leave if you want, but if you accept the job i will make you a wealthy man. No more financial problems, no more odd jobs at home, no more nothing."

Miguel calmed down and stood up from the table.

"How much?"

"Four million."

"And this is the last job?"

"I promise on my dead mother's grave."

Miguel hesitated, one part of him told him to leave that fucking room as fast as he could and never look back, the other told him to shake the man's hand. He looked at the rest of the hitmen on the room. The girl sat down, angry, pretty sure she would have shot him if the boss hadn't ordered her not to.

As for the rest of the people on the room, they apparently didn't care anymore, as they stopped paying attention to him or the boss.

It took him all of thirty seconds to decide.

Miguel slowly pulled out his revolver and carefully placed it on the boss' table.

"Who are we killing?"

_"Scott Pilgrim."_

* * *

"I can't believe you're doing this." said Knives Chau , sitting in a department store, with a bag full of new clothes in one hand. "I can already imagine the look on their faces!"

"I'm not going into that stage looking like a hobo kiddo, not again." said Robert from the dresser room.

"Again?"

_**Mapleview Shopping Centre:**_

**900 Maple Avenue, Burlington**

**One of Toronto's biggest malls. It features over 130 stores and services.**

**Open hours: 10:00-21:00. (Open all week)**

_**1 Day left for The Garrison.**_

"I was on a punk band back in the early 2000's. Ultra-violence and anarquism, kinda like the Sex Pistols, but in Spanish." explained Robert.

"Ohhh, really? You've been a cop, a goon and a musician!" Laughted Knives.

"Real funny, smartass." joked Robert back, putting on his pants.

"Wish I coulda brought you to the Eaton Centre. But apparently there was a shootout a couple of weeks ago." Explained Knives, laying down on one of the couches.

"Well ain't that a causalty."

"First: I think you mean "causality", second: I'm pretty sure the right term is 'coincidence.'"

"Go to hell." Warmly said Rob, giving Knives the middle finger from the dresser.

"Auch. Anyway, you guys are ready for this gig right? I swear to god i've never seen Stephen Stills so stressed out."

"I've been in way worse situations than some shitty concert, Nines."

"Wait... what did you just called me?" Knives got up from her seat.

"Oh... i... Nines' a Spanish name... i mean... it kinda fits you... you know?" awkwardly explained Robert.

"So i'm a number now?"

"Hey, you can call me Sevens if you want." Joked Robert back.

"Sevens? That has to be by far the stupiest nickname i've heard in my entire life."

"Well I like it, actually, its horrible. And so are you, I'm leaving you. What will you do now little Knives Chau? Will you marry Bowie Jones?!" grinned Robert, peeking his head through the courtain.

"Nah. I think I'll do this instead." Knives stood up and kissed Robert.

* * *

**_Meanwhile back in the apartment..._**

**_(Ryderrosas' note: SURPRISE, SURPRISE, THERE'S MUSIC ON THE NEXT SCENE! Play "We were set up" by The Score NOW. Also, bit of clusterfuck of conversations, keep an eye out and don't fall sleep.)_**

"Ramona, you seen my parka?" asked Scott, looking at the now empty coat hanger.

"What?" heard Scott from the bathroom, where Ramona was taking a shower.

"Uhh, nevermind, i'm going out!" yelled Scott as he opened the door and left.

"Where did I left that jacket?...Oh, maybe in the coat hanger... wait, nevermind." muttered Scott to himself as he walked away from the house. Not far from him, 3 people watched him in a Ford Mustang, Miguel sat in the front seat, carefully spying on Scott with a set of binoculars, and a young girl with round glasses and long hair sat next to him drinking a cola. The third person calmly smoked a cigar in the backseat.

"There he is," announced Miguel.

"Oh, how tempted i am of getting out of this car and bashing his brains right in," said the girl.

"And if you did that i wouldn't even need to kill you." said the third man, letting out a puff of smoke, as he looked at the car's ceiling.

"Should we follow him on foot?" asked Miguel to the man.

"Eh, sure. You two take care now," said the man as Miguel and his partner got out of the car carefully.

Scott walked, Miguel and his partner behind him.

"So, what's yer story with this sucka?" asked Miguel, trying to make some casual conversation.

"Focus on the objective, we can't loose him." ordered the woman. "And put your earpiece, we are splitting up."

"Gotcha." said Miguel as he crossed the street, blending with a crowd of people getting off a nearby bus.

Meanwhile, Scott turned a corner, unaware of the two hitmen that were on his tail.

"Maybe I left it on in Stephen Stills' house..." thought Scott, before his phone rang.

"Ey Stace." he said after reading the caller's ID.

"Dude, where are you? We've been waiting for you for half an hour!" said Stacy Pilgrim in an annoyed tone.

"I... kinda lost my parka."

_"I mean, you seem to hate this guy with a passion, there's gotta be a reason for that."_ Insisted Miguel, watching Scott.

_"It's... personal, okay? I really don't wanna talk about it,"_ answered his partner back.

"Should I even be surprised you lost that old thing again?" Asked Stacy again, even more angry.

"Well..."

"Just get here or we are going in without your ass." said Stacy before the line went dead. Scott saved the phone back on his pants and ran.

_"Shit, I think we're made." _announced the partner, before running after Pilgrim.

_"We can't go after him you crazy bitch! The boss will kill us!" _Miguel pushed his way out and ran across the road, behind his partner.

"Huh, I guess i'm not the only one in a hurry." thought Scott, noticing a girl with round glasses and long hair and a hispanic bald man with a black suit behind him.

"Wait, where have I seen that chick before..." Scott stopped on his tracks and turned around as the two figures got closer to him.

_"He's seeing us! There's no way back!"_ yelled the girl, already making up her excuse for when the boss would have them both killed.

_"We can't kill him, what the hell are you doing?!"_ Miguel finally made it behind his partner, only to be back kicked by her in the gut.

"Don't stop, keep running!" Yelled Miguel, hoping Scott could hear him.

"Hey, do I know you?" Before Scott could react, the woman pulled a blade out of her jacket and charged at him. A hand grabbed Scott by the collar of his shirt, dragging him into a subspace door. Scott saw a glimpse of white as he fell in the depths of the strange dimension, still confused by that whole situation.

"Shit!" Yelled Miguel's partner, as she grabbed the frame of the subspace door, ready to jump behind Pilgrim.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Miguel tackled her before she could even lean.

_(Soundtrack note: Stop the song.)_

* * *

"And that's why you arrived half an hour late?" Stacy took a sip of her cappucino.

"I swear, that's what happened! Those guys with the suits were chasing me!"

"Guys in suits? Geez Scott, who did you piss off this time? The mafia? Undercover cops? The CIA?" joked Wallace Wells **(ABOUT TIME I SHOWED UP!).**

"Although... seeing how your new roommate is, I wouldn't been surprised you actually got a hit squad going for your ass." calmly added Wallace.

"Wait, doesn't this mean they'll go for Ramon..." Cut in Neil.

"..."

**"PFFFFFFFFFFFFT"** Scott spitted his coffee all over Neil''s face.

**"JESUS CHRIST SCOTT, ITS ALL OVER MY CROTCH!" **Yelled Neil before falling off his chair.

**"OH GOD I'M SO SORR-"**

**_(Ryderrosas' note: THIS IS WHY I DON'T WRITE SCOTT SCENES.)_**

**_(Reader's note: JUST CHANGE THE GODDAMN SCENE ALREAD-)_**

* * *

"I just realized today's July fourth." said Robert, grabbing his guitar case. He was wearing a red plaid shirt and blue jeans.

"Do you even pay attention to the outside world?" asked Ramona, wearing a brown jacket and a yellow skirt.

"Please, at least I know what the fourth of July is about!" joked Robert pointing at Scott, who was wearing his black _ZERO_ shirt and a pair of washed out jeans.

_**(Reader's note: What's with the sudden rushed outfit descriptions?)**_

_**(Ryderrosas note: I am trying to create a scene, shut it..)**_

"Ey! I know what the fourth of July is about!" stated Scott pissed.

"Oh, yeah? Then tell me everything you know about it!"

"Oh... ehhh... it's about Americans... celebrating... America... and stuff?"

"He actually got close." Stated Ramona.

"Pretty much. Well, lets get going, this disaster won't happen on its own." Robert opened the door and left, Ramona and Scott followed.

**_July 4th, 2012: 2 hours for The Garrison._**

"Robert, can i talk to you for a second? In private?" Asked Scott a couple of minutes later.

"Yeah?" Scott wrapped his arm around Robert's neck and dragged him away. Scott told him everything about his encounter.

"Ah, shit." Groaned Robert after Scott finished. "Okay, this is a problem, I'll tell Knives to keep her eye out for anything suspicious, if it goes South just run okay?"

"Shouldn't we just cancel the concert?" Robert looked at Scott in disbelief.

"Fuck no." Stated Robert, almost angry at Scott's idea. "Look, if we what you're saying is true, then there's some guy who is protecting us from those guys. I know how to deal with Hitmen. What i'm more afraid of is why we got that guardian angel."

"You seem very calm about this." Noticed Scott, almost scared.

"I already told you, I've gone through worse, so don't stress out." Robert grinned at Scott, calming him down.

"Can we go now?" Said Ramona after Scott released Robert.

* * *

"We are so boned." Stephen Stills sat in one of the tables, wearing a pair of khaki pants over a white shirt . Kim Pine sat next to him, with a glass of Tequila in her hand, she was wearing a black and red skirt over her black and white jacket.

"You've been saying that since we arrived." Stated Kim tired.

"I mean, god damn it, we barely know our own songs."

"They're the easiest songs we could play Stephen." Kimberly was beginning to loose her patience.

"Where's Knives with the drinks?!" Yelled Stephen even more desperate. Kim looked back to see Knives sitting on the bar, focused on her phone as she waited for the drinks. She wore an olive green jacket with a black shirt underneath and a pair of broken jeans.

"Still waiting for them."

* * *

"Alright, so the surveillance plan was a complete failure." Spoke the Big Man into his earpiece before taking a sip of whiskey.

_"Blame L, I tried to stop that crazed bitch!" _Miguel defended himself.

"As I was saying... Pilgrim knows there's something happening, so are gonna have to rush the first step of our operation. Each one of you has a target, observe them, learn their entire lives. The moment I give the green light, you'll eliminate them. When Pilgrim's down on his knees, we will strike." The Boss laid down his plans.

_"I call dibs on Flowers." _Said Miguel's partner.

_"Oh, hell no! Ramona's mine!" _Yelled an Italian sounding voice.

_"Try me." _Answered the girl.

_"Oh, for the love of god, this is going downhill before its beginning." _A third voice jumped in.

"No one is calling dibs on anybody, I'll assign your targets and you will kill them, understood?!" The Big Man silenced everyone.

_"Buzz kill." _said one of the hitmen before shutting up.

* * *

"Guess we're past the point of no return, huh?" Commented Robert, as the trio finally arrived at The Garrison.

"I think you guys passed that point long ago." Added Ramona.

"Pretty much." Said Scott as he walked forward, entering the bar.

* * *

"One Cuba Libre for Kim, a San Francisco for Wallace, and whatever this is Stephen, seriously, I don't think this humanly possible to d..." Stills grabbed his "cocktail" and drank it in one go before Knives could finish her sentence. He then slammed his face against the table and started crying.

"I just don't get you guys anymore." Knives sat down with the rest of the group.

"Neither do we." Stated Kim, taking a sip of her drink.

"You know... there's something I don't get."-Jumped in Stacy. "If this gig is so important to you guys, why don't you just play it without Robert and play the next one instead?"

Everyone turned around to Stills, who was frozen in place, his eyes looking at absolutely nowhere. He slowly left the glass on the table (Read: Dropped it on the ground) and walked to the nearest wall, whom which he headbutted even more furiously before returning to his seat. Kim just got up and left.

"Yo Kim, what-" Robert tried to greet Kim, only to get punched in the face. Scott and Ramona just stared at the situation.

"I'll try to calm her down." Ramona ran behind Kim, who entered the Women's bathroom.

"I swear to god, I' have been more in the ground in these last two weeks than in the last two years of my life." Muttered Robert as he got up.

"Your broken English is showing." Knives offered Robert a hand.

"You try not slipping your accent every once in a while."

* * *

_"Pilgrim has arrived." _The Big Man turned his head around and saw Rodriguez, Pilgrim and Chau sitting on the table with the rest of the group.

"Yeah, so it seems." He commented, before ignoring the group to focus on his drink.

_"Right, so is it safe to come in?" _Asked Miguel from his intercom.

"Its better not to risk it, if Pilgrim recognizes you or L, the plan will fall apart. Stay outside for a while. Over and out." The Big Man changed the frequency of his earpiece.

_"So, what now?" _Asked an already familiar feminine voice.

* * *

"Right, guys, this is Robert, Robert, this is my sister Stacy, his... Neil and Wallace, my gay roommate." Scott introduced Robert to the rest.

"Wallace? You mean like... that guy, that does the..." Robert's twitching eyes went straight for Wallace.

"Well ain't that a coincidence! I was actually hoping I could talk to you, Wallace!" Ordered Robert, grabbing the man of the hour by his arm. -"In private."

"Oh Jesus Christ Robby, don't kill him!" Knives ran behind his boyfriend, leaving Scott with his sister and Neil.

"You really need to find normal people to hang out with little brother."

"I... won' deny that." Admitted Pilgrim.

* * *

_"They set us up... you and me..."_

_"Things have been bad dude, more people wants us dead every day..."_

_"Let me guess, you're gonna buy me a drink, tell me I'm an angel and try to fuck me on the bathrooms, right? Good luck with that."_

_"Look, its really simple: We get in, yell "down on the floor", walk away rich. Deal?"_

_"Okay, New York City, here we go."_

_"I... want certain people dead. They wronged me."_

_"North Carolina. God, what a shithole."_

_"Just go! I'll cover you first!"_

_"Sometimes is home where you run away from."_

_"Your father did betting, didn't pay debt. Now you pay."_

_"We gotta get outta Mexico, bounty hunters, they want our heads on a plate, Adrian."_

_"I don't give a fuck what you think Cortez, life's shit, then you die."_

_"Its just business. And just so happens you are bad for them. I'm afraid I'm letting you go."_

_"I'll find you and that fucking dumb friend of yours!"_

_"I don't want a breakout, man, I want you to get outta Carolina. There's a fat chance the cops are tracking you as we speak. Get out, start all over. This is it for me. I'm gonna die here, and if you try to do something about it you'll die here too."_

_"You are __unbelievable, I... can't believe I loved you..."_

Shut up.

_"What, can't take the heat? You think you can just turn away from all of this? From your own life?"_

I couldn't deal with it.

_"Of course you couldn't, you're pathetic. You do whatever you want and when you don't want to suffer the consequences you run away like a coward."_

You wouldn't have done any better.

**_"_**_You don't know."_

There's no point on dwelling on it anymore. I did what I had to do.

_"Oh, now we are being hypocrites, aren't we? You were the one who tried to kill himself all of those times. Do you even think you are the first guy to talk to himself like this? You think you are unique? You think you are original? One day you'll wake up and realize this ain't no Hollywood film, that those people don't know what they are getting into, and that you are nothing but a waste of space."_

Fuck. You. You... you are only making everything worse! Shut up or..."

**_"Or what? Will you just make me go away like the other voice?!"_**

**_SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'LL SWEAR TO GOD, I WON'T CONTROL MYSELF!_**

_"You haven't changed a bit. Go on, march forward to reality as you call it, leave me here alone. You are just walking to something worse. You couldn't even keep the secret for a week, soon they'll find out who you are, and then what? You'll kill them like you did with the others?"_

That's for me to figure out.

_"Then why are you still talking to me?"_

* * *

"Robert? You're phasing out again." Once again, Knives awoke Robert from his trance, he was sitting on the bar, with a glass of liquor on his right hand.

"Oh..." Robert closed and opened his eyes, as he were trying to stay awake. "I... I had to..."

"You don't have to say anything." Knives grabbed Rodriguez' hand, calming the man down. -"Just try to stay calm, okay?"

"I don't know what I would do without you Nines."

* * *

"I'm freezing my balls off." Complained Miguel, sitting on the sidewalk, sick of not being able of get in. -"How long until the gig starts?" he asked to his partner.

"The gig started ten minutes ago. Pilgrim gets to act in six minutes." Stated the girl.

"Call the boss, tell him I'm not waiting one more goddamn second." Miguel tried to warm himself, to no result. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to just wear a brown suit and a blue hawaiian shirt in the middle of Canada.

* * *

**_Backstage: 2 minutes left for showtime._**

"I'm ready. I am so goddamn ready, I wasn't ready last week, nor ten minutes ago, but now I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm super ready, everything's gonna be perfect because we are ultra ready, like, its not **HUMANLY POSSIBLE TO BE NOT AS READY AS I AM, WE ARE NOT READY, WE ARE NOT READY, AND EVERYONE'S GONNA LAUGH AT US, AND WE ARE GONNA TURN INTO SOCIAL OUTCASTS AND KILL OURSELVES IN OUR ROOMS, OUR BODIES WILL BE FOUND DECOMPOSED AFTER WEEKS OF ROTTING!" **

"I don't know what I would do without you Stephen Stills." Kim laid on one of the couches, looking at the cracks of the ceiling. Scott sat next to her while Robert changed himself on the dressing cabinet.

"That escalated quickly." said Scott.

"Stills, If you don't chill out in ten seconds, I will personally shove all the Ecstasy I have stashed for this gig up in Joseph's playground." menaced Robert, peeking his head from the cabinet.

"And now you're doing drugs. All we need is another evil ex to try to murder Scott and we are set for another Sex-bob-omb concert."

"I was joking, I dropped Ecstasy two years ago for your information, anyway, I have a little surprise for you!" As soon as Robert finished his sentence, a box with the words "Sex-bob-omb" rolled under the curtain. It stopped next to Stephen Still's shirt. Both Kim and Scott got up from their seats and inspected the box. Scott opened the box, only to discover his lost parka inside.

"Wait a second, so it was you who took my parka!" Scott said angry.

"Yep, I kinda borrowed some clothes from your closets and gave them some... "retouches" for the gig." Scott inspected the jacket, it had a patch on both arms, one of them had his own name, and the other one the logo of a bass guitar. Kim grabbed a blue sweatshirt, now sporting the band's logo on the back, surrounded by several psychedelic doodles and drawings. Stephen Stills grabbed one of his buttoned up shirts, like the one he was wearing, but black and with an intricate including too the band's pattern in white positioned on the shoulders.

"And I left the best for last!" Robert jumped out of the cabinet, brandishing a light blue suit jacket, a set of washed up jeans and red and white sneakers. But what stood up the most was the shirt he was wearing underneath the jacket, as it had the United Kingdom flag painted all over it.

"So, like my surprise?"

* * *

"Yeah... okay..." Miguel looked at the girl over his shoulder, she didn't even look like she was past twenty-two, and yet there she was, with a revolver hidden on her lap, just like him and talking to their boss, about god knows only what. She pushed the off button on the electronic device and turned to him. Miguel didn't even bother to pretend he wasn't staring at her.

"Inside." She ordered to him, as the couple entered the bar, they were greeted almost immediately to the sound of hardcore rock and the smell of cheap alcohol.

"This is were we split, our targets are the next band. I'll be on the crowd, you watch over the bar, and turn your earpiece on." Said the young lady as she walked away from Miguel, almost relieved of not having to babysit him anymore.

"Turn the earpiece? We are in a goddamn bar, how the hell are you gonna hear me?" Asked De La Rosa.

"Do you really think this is the first time I've been on a concert?" She turned around.

"No, but its still noisy as hell!"

"Then cover your ears!" yelled the girl as she disappeared on a crowd of people.

"Nutjob." Muttered the Mexican to himself as he walked towards the bar, looking for a place to lay down and relax for the first time in that week.

No seats left.

Perfect.

Miguel leaned against the counter and tried to call a bartender, of course, no one listened. There were at least twenty people or more around him.

"Yo Barkeep! I need a drink 'round here!" Miguel yelled to a passing employee, getting the same result than before.

"Fuck this shit man." Miguel just turned around and looked at the stage, where the band that was playing was finishing up their last song. He turned his earpiece on to his private line.

"Yo, Pilgrim's next, right?" asked Miguel just in case.

_"Yes."_ was the blank answer that the Big Man gave to Miguel.

"You sound like you don't care." commented Miguel.

_"I am nervous. You're in position?" _he asked.

"Yeah." Answered Miguel moments before the band finished its last song.

**"THANK YOU VERY MUCH GARRISON! HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!" **Yelled the band's vocalist as he left the stage with the rest of the band. A man wearing a brown leterman jacket and jeans stepped into the stage, his hair picked up in a ponytail. He picked up the microphone.

"Our... next band has asked me to read the following: *If anybody fucking dares to do a joke about having the word "Sex" on our band's name, I will personally come down and bite your balls off. We are here to entertain, but not like THAT.*" The announcer looked confused.

"Well, that's oddly specific. Ladies and gentleman... Sex-bob-omb." And with that, the lights on the stage turned off. After ten seconds, the lights turned back on, revealing the band on stage.

"Wait a fucking second." Miguel's eyes widened the moment they saw the guitarist.

There was no way that was him.

Before Miguel could even confirm what was happening, two voices bursted out of the stage, as the guitarist himself leaned against the drummer's microphone and screamed with her...

**_"WE ARE SEX-BOB-OMB, AND WE'RE HERE TO MAKE YOU GET SAD ABOUT DEATH AND THAT KIND OF STUFF!"_**

**_To be continued._**


	10. One

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: WOAH BOY, HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?_**

**Oh yeah, 6 fucking months. You all know the drill by now, so uh... I guess I should state that this chapter was Co-written by my pal Alex Ridley. Again. Yeah, just read the goddamn chapter, you've waited long enough.**

"Oh... Graves... you son of a..." Muttered Miguel, finally figuring everything out. He turned on his earpiece as he started to walk backwards, trying to locate the exit with his eyes.

_**"I'm hearing voices, animal noises, the-créme de-la-créme..."**_

"So, three million, huh?" Mocked Miguel to his "boss", as his hand slowly reached for his back pocket, just in case.

_**"...the femi-nine abyss, reaching to my Threshold, staring to the truth 'till I'm blind..."**_

_"Miguel, this is not what it looks like..."_

"And what is it? You're giving me mixed signals here."

**"My body's stupid, stereo putrid, spilling out music into raw sewage..."**

_"...An opportunity, if you play it right."_

_**"Listen to my Threshold, sick of ever standing in line!"**_

"Killing own partner isn't an opportunity!"

_**"My Thres-hooooooold…. My Threshooooooold…."**_

"Miguel… I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't for both your own good and mine. You know I'm looking out for you, hm?"

_**"Reaching, my threeees-hooold!"**_

"Fuck you. Fuck you and everything you stand for, 'boss', I'm out. Miguel turned around, taking off his earpiece and throwing it on the ground as he made his way for the exit, revolver in hand. He gave one last look at the stage, where his old partner played before walking away.

L turned from her perch overseeing the performance, he noticed Miguel walking away from the dancefloor. She turned on her earpiece with a fixed glare on his ex-partner, who didn't notice her.

The mexican pushed his way out, barging through the crowd as he headed towards the door. An asian girl bumped against him, dropping her drinks on him. Miguel started, entering full combat mode involuntarily. Had his finger been on the trigger, Miguel would almost have shot her in surprise.

"Oh god, I'm so so sorry!" Apologized Knives Chau to the angered Mexican. He didn't bother to reply as he walked towards the exit to the club.

"Geez… wonder what his problem is…" Knives muttered as she wandered back towards Ramona, her drinks glasses half-empty.

Ramona looked up and met Knives with a smile. "Hey! Um… where did the drinks go?"

"Some suited jackass walked into me on the way out. Spilled them everywhere…"

"But Robert's on the stage."

"Rob's not a jackass! I… guess there's just a lot of people with suits around, lately." Said Knives, focusing on the stage for a second. Her face instantly changed after a few seconds.

"Wait, that ain't right. They changed the lyrics. Why would they change the lyrics!?" Cried Knives, on the verge of desperation.

Ramona took the half-empty drink. "Could be Rob's influence. You know Stills… he keeps on remaking his songs every time he gets a new inspiration."

"But the lyrics were PERFEEEECT!" yelped Knives, jumping onto Ramona, spilling her drinks.

Ramona flailed around in an attempt to get her off. "Are you trying to make me drop the rest of this? You're paying for this, ya know!"

"I CAN BUY MORE, NOW COMFORT ME!" Knives' rampant flailing came to a sudden, dead stop as she felt a solid, secure hand grasp the scruff of her neck. Only three people she knew would grab her like that. Her parents, and…

"...Trying to kill her again, Knives?" asked Tamara Chen, the tone of her voice dead serious.

"We… worked out our differences…"

"Looks like her throat disagrees." Ramona nodded weakly.

"You know, you are a major buzzkiller, Tamara." Knives released her grip on Ramona, who gasped, finally able to breathe again. "Where did you even come from?!"

Tamara nodded, and released her grip on Knives' neck. "You know, if you'd checked your phone at any point in the past few years...!"

Knives froze, a cold feeling trickling down her spine. She hadn't even noticed. She put a tentative hand in her pocket and withdrew her mobile, guiltily acknowledging the seven texts and six missed calls.

_Tamara-chan (20:41): Hey you around? Parents are out tonight if you wanna watch TV_

_Tamara-chan (21:05): Knives? I know you are online c'mon._

_Tamara-chan (21:33): Knives. You're at the concert, aren't you._

_Tamara-chan (21:48): Of course you changed your profile pic to the stage and didn't bother to check my messages._

_Tamara-chan (22:07): I am coming in and you better hope there aren't any bodies._

_Tamara-chan (22:25): This is your last chance, I'm outside. If you don't answer in the next 5 minutes I'm making sure you spend the worst 4th of July of your life._

_Tamara-chan (22:30): Happy Independence Day._

"I swear to God I just realized you called me." Tamara sighed. Some things were lost causes.

"You know what happens now, Knives? You don't get to go anywhere unless I say so. You don't get to drink a thing unless I say it's okay. And maybe, just maybe, we don't have to tell your dad." Knives groaned as Ramona had to suppress a laugh.

"I think I'm already stuck with him…" Muttered Knives out loud.

Tamara sighed again and shook her head. "This crowd's doing bad things to you, Knives…"

The song raging on the stage had reached its ending instrumental, Kim banging on the drums with her usual fury as the guitars faded into silence. There was a polite smattering of brief, awkward applause.

_**"Really?! I mean… really?!**_ yelled Rob to his mic in reaction. _**"Screw it, next song!"**_

A member of the audience in the front row looked at her wrist, shook her head and turned around hastily, just as the band poised themselves for the next song. Forcing her way through the crowd, she walked out of the room with practiced, careful steps. The crowd absorbed her, the odd person watching her uncertainly as she passed.

_**"You have GOT to be FUCKING KIDDING me."** _muttered Robert into the mic, losing his patience.

"Rob. Calm… calm down. You know what's up next, right? We agreed this is how this is gonna go, right?" Stills turned to face Rob, an edge of mania creeping into his eyes as an awkward semi-silence descended on the room.

"A goddamn disaster is up next, a goddamn fucking grade A disaster is up next, for the love of…" Rambled Rodriguez, stepping away from the microphone.

"Robert… Robert Rodriguez… you know what's going to happen if you don't play the next song? If you don't stick to the plan?" He paused for breath, his voice rising in intensity. "They're going to… they're going to… leave, and then… don't you know what happens to bands who cause mass walkouts? They explode. Sex Bob-Omb. Boom. So calm down. And. Play." He smiled a bitter, manic smile.

"Are you seriously… Am I the only one realizing the irony of YOU being the voice of… the godda… to me… the paranoi…" Robert froze in place. He turned around and looked at his bandmates, then at the public.

"Oh fuck me, I got it, I got it. There's only one way we can get out of this one." Robert played a few notes on his guitar, warping and distorting them to unrecognisability.

"And there go the amps. There go my hopes and dreams." Stills took a step towards Robert.

"Go to hell Stills, I'm saving the show!" Robert walked towards the mic, strumming his guitar as he did so. He grabbed the mic stand with his free hand, stood in front of the rest of the band, and slammed it in front of him, a screech of feedback shrieking through the room.

**_"One baby to another says, "I'm lucky to met you"..."_**

Stills looked at Kim, who looked at Scott, who looked back at Stills.

"Great, we have Kobain himself as our new frontman." muttered Kim, clutching her drumsticks tighter in her hands. She grimaced, before clacking her drumsticks in the air and beginning the drum riff to match Rob. (Soundtrack note: Nirvana- Drain you. (John Peel sessions))

The crowd going wild at Sex Bob-Omb's sudden surge of energy was distantly audible in the corridors leading to the outside of the Garrison. The woman who had left had dropped any pretense of cool as she scanned the theatre for Miguel.

"About time he left," she muttered to herself as she sat on the curb, the street was empty. She put her hand to her earpiece and sent a signal to contact the Boss again.

"Remind me again why we did all this "three million hit" charade again, I mean, we coulda just sent an assassin after De La Rosa, you know? It would have saved us time." She grimaced as she heard the Boss laughing on the other end, kicking the kerb beneath her left foot.

_"We need him with his partner. That way we get both AND Pilgrim, believe me, this is gonna be fun. After all these years, it's finally happening."_

"But why do we need to actually be at the damn concert to do it? There are better avenues to take them out. There's a ton of witnesses in there, and the music's awful."

_"Not liking the band? Pretty ironic coming from you, since you literally saved their show, you know. I have my reasons of why I want to attack them here first. Don't worry, our little friend only wants Rodriguez, you'll get Flowers as I promised you."_

"Fine. No questions asked, I remember. And, er... we've lost the other quarry. Do you have his location? I'm outside. Should be able to make it quick."

_"We let him go for now, if I wanted him dead, I would have told you."_

"Then why the hell did we bring him here? Ugh… never mind. Right. What am I doing?"

_"Well, you can go back inside and enjoy the… show or go back to the apartment and take a breather, you know who you are gonna kill, no pressure."_

So I'm just being used to set the stage, huh? "Right, then. Back to the damn mess. Think I'll stick at the back of the hall this time." She stood up from the pavement, furtively looking around to check if Miguel was anywhere nearby, before heading back towards the Garrison and cutting communications.

_**"...like you…"**_

L pushed into the back of the Garrison theatre unnoticed by the rest of the crowd, who were focused on the music with sudden, genuine interest. Rob's hair was in a mess as he passionately spat lyrics into the microphone, taking his first breath in about a minute as the thudding of a bassline transitioned the song into an instrumental.

_**"You…"**_

After a few seconds, of Scott and Kim's hypnoticing beat, the sound of pure distortion flooded the room as Robert violently strummed his guitar, entering into a solo. The violence of his playing drew bemused stares from most of the audience as he blasted through each bar. Steadily moving to take L's place at the front of the concert was a manic Knives, punctuating every strum with a little yelp of joy. Tamara followed closely behind her, face a mask of practiced calm.

"Jesus Christ, their only good song isn't even theirs…" muttered L to herself, feeling a wave of hate and desperation as she returned to her place. Meanwhile, not far away from the stage, the door to the Garrison's bathroom burst open with a crash absorbed by the sounds of the crowd and Sex Bob-Omb's furious playing. Wallace Wells slipped out from the door, face red, nose bloody, and walking as if his leg was broken, before moving towards a less busy area of the Garrison's floor. Wells gave a quick look onto the stage, noticing both his ex-roommate and the guy that almost killed him one hour ago playing together.

"Well that's just nice, now the Latin Pimp and I are sharing our bitch."

A voice to his left, slightly closer to the stage, caused him to jump, awkwardly straining his aching thighs.

"Looks like someone's been sharing you, Wells," Ramona smirked, tipping back another sip of terrible festival beer.

"You know me, Rammy, I'm always up for a threesome. You haven't lived until an ex-con Latin sociopath has beaten you up on the bathroom floor after he's finished with you," laughed Wallace, rubbing some of the blood from his face.

"Whatever, Wells. Should have known you wouldn't have been at a concert like this if it wasn't to get laid in a bathroom stall. Was there nobody in the alley behind Mr. Greeks for you to seduce?"

Wallace moved over to Ramona's perch on the wall and settled down next to her, idly watching the stage. "The clientele here is a special kind of spicy, my dear Sauce Bitch. You wouldn't understand. You're not on our level." Ramona and Wallace's conversation was interrupted when an earth-shattering scream came from the stage, as both Robert and Scott wildly screamed into their mics, ending the solo and returning to the chorus as the crowd went wild.

**_One baby to another says,_**

**_"I'm lucky to met you."_**

**_I don't care what you think about,_**

**_Unless it's about me._**

**_It is now my duty to, completely drain you,_**

**_I travel through a tube and_**

**_end up in your infection._**

**_Chew your meat for you…_**

**_Pass it back and forth…_**

**_In a passionate kiss…_**

**_From my mouth to yours…_**

**_I.._**

**_Like…_**

**_You…_**

**_You..._**

As the song descended into screaming oblivion, Rob belting out the final lyric in a scream that warped the microphone and released a surge of static, the crowd looked uncertain for a moment before bursting into raucous applause. L was buffeted by the sudden impromptu mosh pit, placing a hand on her pistol to prevent it being… accidentally drawn. Knives had reached a level of shrieking normally reserved for echolocating bats.

The applause steadily died down as Rob stepped forwards, obscuring his bandmates as he basked in the general adulation they were sending towards the stage. His smile was savage, primal, as if he'd just looked up from a triumphant kill. Stills let a nervous sigh escape him as he sank to his knees, letting out a long, hard breath.

"Told you I was gonna save the gig!" Rodriguez gloated to Stills, not even bothering to hide his shit-eating grin.

"I am so glad you decided to be humble about it," said Kim as the applause dipped lower and lower. The audience was beginning to grow a little restless.

"It's not like you weren't into it too, Kim. Looks like you don't mind me invading your 'last retreat', huh?" His smile was deadly. Only a handful remained clapping.

Kim almost knocked the drum set over as she leapt to her feet, fury rising up from within her as the last vestige of resistance she had broke. The audience grew deathly silent as she stomped towards Rob, hands ready to kill. There was only one person clapping in the entire Garrison, the quietness deafening, as if everyone in the audience were holding their breath.

"...uh… that's… not… Kim?" Scott raised a hand to stop her before she reached the grandstanding Rob. She turned towards him with an expression of pure venom.

"What."

Gingerly, Scott raised a hand and pointed behind her, to the back of the stage. Stills and Kim followed his finger, steadily turning around. She let out a strangled snarl.

It occurred to Rob that nobody in the audience was clapping. His eyes looked over the Garrison, trying to find that one elusive fan that was still applauding thirty seconds after the rest of them had stopped.

It hit him in a flash that the applause was coming from behind him.

Robert slowly turned around. His eyes widened as he recognized the thin and old man clapping behind him, sporting an even bigger grin than the one he had moments earlier. Dressed up on a worn out black suit, a bola tie hanging from his neck, next to a mess of white and long hairs, like the ones of the devil himself.

He was the man of his dreams.

"Oh don't mind me, just go on with your show, I'll be right here, waitin' quietly." The man laughed as he spoke, like he were a kid in a closed candy store.

"Go on, play your little guitars and drums, yell 'bout how depressed you are an' shit. Hell, those songs are KILLER. Ain't I right, Manny?" He took steady steps towards the front of the stage, brushing past the furious Kim as if she wasn't even there. Scott placed a cautioning arm on her shoulder when she jerked to face him, legs braced to leap.

"Hello there Marty." were the only words Robert answered the man with. "You've been doing well for yourself."

"I reckon I am." Marty reached the front of the stage, facing Robert head-on.

"How the fuck did you get inside my head?"

"Subspace." Marty threw his arms on the air in frustration, as if he were explaining that the sky was blue.

"Bullshit."

"We both remember what happened in that dream kid."

"That's why I asked you how you did it."

"I have enough evidence to prove I'm right. It's just a matter of you believing it." Marty's voice dropped to a serious tone.

Robert chuckled to himself resignedly, before looking down and muttering something in Spanish. His head snapped back up as he fixed Marty with a fatalistic grin, eye to eye.

"Wait a second." Robert said as he calmly took off the strap on his guitar and handled it to a confused Stephen Stills. "Alright. Let's end th-"

The violence of the uppercut that collided with his head was neatly matched by his surprise that the blow came from directly behind him. Blind-sided, flat-footed, Rob sailed up into the air, head filled with a bright daze of flashing lights, moaning in pain. He managed to open his eyes just in time to see Marty's booted foot descending towards him from the roof, smacking into and splintering his nose as he was propelled downwards, a suited meteor crashing towards the crowd in the centre of the Garrison. The audience parted as he descended, leaving Rob to land with a painful crack on a hard floor covered with a fine film of spilled beer and other, less savoury fluids.

Marty smiled as he took a step forwards, now squarely on the stage, caught between the set lighting. **"Do you really think I was gonna give you ANOTHER FUCKING CHANCE TO KILL ME, ROBERT?!"**

"Oh, goddamn it! Stephen Stills, hold my bass!" Scott shrugged off his guitar and threw it bodily into Stills, who absent-mindedly caught it, eyes busy staring at the new arrival. He grimaced, balling up his fists as he walked towards Marty's slight form.

Reeling from the blow, his smart clothes soaked through with the detritus of the concert floor, Rob struggled to flip onto his back, head swimming, arms flailing as they struggled to find purchase on the ground. Struggling upwards, he jumped as a solid, steady hand grasped his shoulder, hauling him up to the ground with ease.

"H-huh… wha…" The figure next to him shook him slightly.

"Rob? Get focused, damnit!" Knives' voice was a welcome sound in his delirium, blood finally flowing back to his legs and strengthening them. Rob stood back up under his own power and yelled back at Marty.

**"OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HOW DID YOU EVEN GOT OUT OF THAT COFFIN?!"**

"The same way I appeared…"

A swift kick plowed into the back of Rob's legs, propelling him forward. Knives caught him en-route to the ground.

"...right behind you." Marty was back on the stage, grinning.

"Oh, sure thing! You had subspace powers and along, and since we're at it, **I'M THE FUCKING POPE!**" Robert pulled himself back up and began to search his pockets, looking for any weapon he could find. Knives flipped out a small kunai from up her sleeve, which he took with a mumbled thanks. Similar enough to a butterfly knife in any case.

"You certainly performed my funeral rites excellently, Robert. Maybe you should consider a career in gravedigging?" Marty took a step forwards, falling delicately from the stage to the floor. The crowd parted around him as he stepped towards Rob.

"Nah, I think "Contract Killer" still fits me like a glove, old coot." He grinned as Marty walked towards him, casually flipping his kunai around in his hand. Next to him, Knives dropped into a more practical fighting stance, face blank.

"Killer, eh? Well look at me, walking and talking... seems you're not half as good at murder as you thought you were."

There came a ring from the stage, a sudden surge of loud feedback through the speakers that caused most of the crowd to wince. All eyes turned to the stage, even Marty looking over his shoulder at a bemused Scott idly tapping the microphone.

"Uh… Sorry to interrupt, but am I the only one who has no idea what you guys are talking about?"

"Huh? Shit, this IS really confusing from an outside point of view, isn't it?" Marty fully turned around and gave Scott a sympathetic look. "I'll give you the full story once I kill Robbie over there, alright? Sorry about all this shouting. I've just been waiting a long time for this."

Rob looked at Marty, ashamed.

"Uh… really, man? Thought we were having a fight over here."

"Oh, silly me, where are my manners?" And with that, Marty disappeared from the stage, appearing again behind Robert, only this time running into Knives, who had taken up a defensive position behind him.

"Hi."

"Ugh. Have I ever told you I hate Subspace, Rob?" Knives flipped out a second kunai, challenging Marty with her eyes. She tensed, beginning to strike, before there was a crash from the stage, the sound of people hurriedly parting as Scott shuffled up to the standoff, placing himself on the blind sides of Rob and Knives.

_**BOSS BATTLE: MARTY CARTER (The Subspace Jockey)**_

_**Smarts: 80**_

_**Speed: +100**_

_**Kick: 66**_

_**Will: ALL OF IT.**_

_**Balls: Texan style.**_

_**FIGHT TO THE DEATH!**_

"Can we start killing each other? I have plans tonight," mocked Robert before Marty swung a blindingly fast blow straight into his waiting guard, the Texan disappearing back into Subspace without a reply. "And you don't even talk during fights like you used to, huh?"

A spinning kick from Marty slammed towards Scott, who raised his hands just in time to block the worst of it. He staggered a step back, pushing against the two behind him. Marty regained his balance with ease and looked back at Scott apologetically.

"Look, it ain't personal, kid, but you know how this sort of thing works. I'll try not to rough you up too hard, huh?"

Scott just smiled wearily at him. "I know the feeling. Um… but since you're trying to kill my bandmate, I do sort of have to, uh… fight back. Sorry." Scott launched forwards into a strong, overarm punch towards Marty's waiting chest.

"You know, had I met you in different circumstances, I would have liked you, seriously." He ducked into Subspace just as Scott's attack was about to hit, appearing behind him and kicking him squarely in the lower back. Scott yelled in minor frustration as he collapsed onto the filthy Garrison floor.

"Hey! That's Scott Pilgrim you just hit. If you wanted to make this personal..." Knives span around from her position, slashing towards Marty's position with the sharp edge of her right kunai. He dodged with an effortless leap back into Subspace, the blade whiffing into empty air.

"Seriously? Looks like you found some pretty good friends, Robert! It's a shame they chose… you, of all the Mexicans in the Americas."

"At least get my nationality right you racist redne-" Marty's shoe impacted on Rob's cheek before he could even finish his sentence, a geyser of blood came out of his mouth as he stumbled, knocking off the formation he had with Knives and Scott. Marty watched him collapse onto the beer-filled floor with a wince as he screamed in pain.

"Did I just hit an Artery, boy?" The Texan laughed as Rodriguez attempted to get up.

"...shtt… up."

"Oh my God, I did. Robert Rodriguez, or however you are called now, silenced! You have no idea how much all this shouting gets on my nerves."

"EAT THIS!" A large thunk rang out in the arena as a keg of cheap festival beer collided with the back of Marty's head. He flew backwards onto the stage, barely leaping into subspace before managing to stabilise himself where the band once played. Ramona gritted her teeth as she steadied herself, ready for a follow-up.

"Oh yeah, we could have done that again." Calmly said Knives as she remembered a certain alleyway and concert.

"Shut up and stay focused. He can't look everywhere at once, right?" Ramona muttered.

"Yeah, he'll be-" Scott began to speak before a smartly dressed arm swung a fist into the space his head had occupied a moment before.

"But I can be everywhere at once. That was luck if I ever saw it!" Marty rubbed the back of his head in pain. "Now for real, y'all gonna die for that little prank."

And with those words, Marty disappeared once again into subspace. The group pulled back into formation, eyes wide, preparing for the next strike. Each tensed their hands around their weapons, waiting for the attack to happen.

For the first time since the band stopped playing, there was silence in the Garrison.

"...Where is he?" Ramona shuffled in place, eyes snapping from side to side.

"Dunno. Can't see him… not in the crowd…" Scott said, his voice tense.

Knives said nothing, flipping her kunai from hand to hand.

**"YEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW, MOTHERFUCKERS!"** The group looked up into the raised foot of Marty coming right down to their faces. The ground shook as they jumped out of the way, knocking them down to the ground, rolling through the slimy mess of spilled beer.

"You know, you're fighting a man that can teleport wherever he wants and you don' think about the ONE obvious attack?! You're askin' for it!" He flickered back into Subspace, dealing a lashing kick towards Scott's prone head he barely rolled away from.

Knives' instincts kicked in with a rush of pure adrenaline. She leapt to her feet, charging forward, a raven-haired lightning bolt. Marty barely leapt away from her kunai, skidding to a halt five feet away.

"By the way,you don' have to fight for the Spanish fuck, you know? I only deal with the ones I want dead!" Marty disappeared, running behind Ramona and stomping on her head. Quicker than he'd thought possible, she brought the beer keg up in the path of his foot, the two colliding with a painful clang.

His cry of pain was cut short by Scott's fist, covered in floor-beer, ramming into the back of his skull. Before the pain properly registered in his mind, Ramona was on her feet, bringing the keg up into his forehead and knocking him into the air and back into subspace with a deep cracking sound, the combo meter flashing up to 3x as a small stream of flashing red particles floated gently to the ground.

"Huh. Those are usually coins," said Scott as he caught one in his outstretched hand, where it disappeared. "Feels like... healing?"

"Weghcome to magh worghld." Spat Robert, still spitting blood.

"Oh, hey, you're up. How are you doing?" asked Knives, taking a cautious step towards him.

"Fugh you too, Nineghsh".

She smiled despite herself. "Such a gentlem-"

Her sentence was cut in half as a finely booted foot swung out towards her legs and swept them from under her, throwing her back on the floor. Marty grimaced, a trickle of blood running from his mouth. He got to his feet, arched his back and disappeared again, leaping back through Subspace.

"Laugh while you can, you bit-" There was a sickening crack as Marty's hand slammed full-power into the floor of the Garrison six feet to the left of Knives. As if he'd been hit in the face, an expression of panic flew onto Marty's face.

"Oh, oh, oh God no, no, no nononononoNONONONO, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" He stood up, moaning as he cracked his dislocated fingers back into their places. He flashed back into Subspace in front of the other fighters, reappearing three feet above the floor and landing on it in a heap.

"Just work please, oh lord just work please just work..." He cried, clambering up to his knees , as he fiddled with his arm, revealing a set of cables going down his sleeves. The group moved towards him. His cries quickly turned into anger, and then into pure, nervous gibberish.

"I'm not gonna die again here." He muttered, pulling out a pair of engraved M1911's from his coat. The crew froze in place.

"Scatter!" Yelled Ramona, as chaos ensued. Everyone in the club began to run and scream, jumping behind the counter, running away from the club or throwing themselves to the ground, hoping to not get hit. Knives dragged Rob up as she leapt to the side, draping his arm over her shoulders. His arms shaking, Marty unloaded his pistols, the loud reports echoing around the fine acoustics of the concert hall. Bullets thunked into the floor where Knives, Ramona and Scott had been until a few seconds ago, his aim wavering as he struggled to control his panic.

Knives felt a strike of pain on her shoulder, as a stray bullet managed to chip her arm. She let out a scream of pain as she reached for her kunai, throwing it at Marty instinctively. It landed in the left side of his chest with a deep thunk. Marty blanched and leapt to the side into Subspace, rematerialising with a grunt as his momentum carried him into the Garrison wall. The impact sent his weapons spinning off into the crowd.

"Knibhes!" Robert cried as Knives put a hand over the bullet wound, grimacing in pain.

"I… I'm okay. Where… where is he?"

"Ribhght there."Robert stood up, desperate and tired, he let out a savage scream as he ran towards Marty, who was struggling to pull the blade from his chest. Marty yanked it from the side of his chest with a grimace, screaming in pain as he began to bleed, getting up just in time for Robert to pounce on him. They tumbled to the ground as they tried to stick the blade in each other's faces.

"Why...won't...you… DIE?!" splat Marty viciously, punching Rodriguez square in the mouth. He let go of his grapple and stumbled back up, holding his hurt mouth as Marty followed him. With the Kunai in his hand, Marty grappled Rob into a wall, sticking the blade in his shoulder.

**"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"** Robert managed to blurt out, his voice surprisingly clear as he clashed both his hands in Marty's ears. He let go of the kunai, losing his balance.

Robert staggered himself towards the bar, dragging himself along the bar counter. Marty struggled to regain balance, the crowd shifting to allow both of them space. The bartender stood there, an expression of disbelief and surprise on his face as Robert looked at him desperate.

"Beer." Simply said Robert, blood dripping through his teeth.

"Wha-"

**"BEER!"**

"Alright, alright, Jesus!" The barkeep pulled a fresh bottle from the nearest fridge and gave it to Robert, who immediatly turned around and got up, as Marty charged towards him. Robert smashed the bottle in Marty's head, throwing him to the ground as his head started to bleed. He screamed and cried in the sticky floor as Robert faintly smiled.

"Alright, nbow giff me anothrr one," ordered Robert. He turned away from the slumped Marty, staggering towards the bar before the Texan was on him again, hands wrapped around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Robert tried to yell, to no use. He was dragged into the front entrance, being slammed headfirst into the door, being turned around by a blood-soaked Marty. He didn't speak a single word, instead opting for animalistic grunts as he punched Rodriguez over and over in the face, each punch sending him into a vortex of bright lights and pain.

His hands bloody, Marty leaned back up, cracked his knuckles again and readied another bone-crushing punch, winding his arm back before a blue blur barrelled into Marty's back, sending him spinning over Rob through the stadium doors with a crash. Scott stood up and arched his back, Ramona and Knives flanking him. Robert slowly crawled back up to his feet and opened the door. Marty was on the floor, with Scott, Ramona and Knives proudly standing next to his body.

"Didn't thought they would come to the concert. Which, now that I think about… is kind… of… obvious to do. Heh," Scott said to Robert. Ramona's eyes sparked as she turned around to both of them.

"Wait, you knew about this?!"

"Well, I uh…" Scott was at a loss for words. "I told Rob."

"And you didn't tell this this to anyone but him because…?" added Knives, turning around to face Scott as well.

"I... don't know?"

"You truly are the salt of the earth, Scott," said Ramona simply, a guilty smile creeping onto her face. Her expression cracked at the soft 'click' of a gun behind her.

"Don't. Move." Marty slowly got up, with a Derringer in his hand.

"Oh, you have got to be fu-" Knives started before being interrupted by Robert.

"You... are… blu-fin-ng," said Robert slowly, his voice barely coherent. Marty kept his gun pointed at Ramona's head.

"Derringer… two shots. We...four people. Kill her, Scott finishes you." Robert splat blood, straightening himself up. "Kill him, she does. Kill me, same thing. You... lost. Walk away."

Marty didn't move, he instead gave a look at Robert.

"Look, you just walk away, we won't come after you, alright? We promise!" Added Knives.

After a few seconds, Marty slowly gave a step backwards, followed by another, then by another, all while still pointing the gun at the group. After the fifth step, he turned around and ran across the street, opening the door of a parked blue sedan. His hands fumbled with his keyring, picking out the ignition shakily.

The group turned away with a sigh of relief as Marty turned the key.

This saved them from being blinded by the furious explosion that consumed Marty's car. Everyone turned around back in shock as fire consumed the wreckage, starting various car alarms all over the place. A wave of red particles came out of the car as Marty screamed his last breath, hanging in the air for a second before converging in on the group in a burst of healing energy.

"Fuck. Me." said a now healed Robert, watching the fireball.


	11. Mrs Teaser

_**Author's note: Well, the name sort of implies it, right? I wrote this little shit to tease about future events, and at the same time prove that yes, I am still alive. I had the finals at College and got a work. Not much to say except besides a thank you to the guy I co-wrote this with, Dravis.**_

_**RECORDING START**_

"_This is… psychiatric evaluation of prisoner 26235, Lauren Jon-_

"_Can we skip the presentations, hun? I want to get to the meat of this little charade."_

"_No. We cannot. Psychiatric evaluation of prisoner 26235, Lauren Jones, Death Row gallery, cell 4, after the incident in the showers last week. Inmate just released from solitary confinement."_

"_I really don't get what you're trying to get from this. Like, it's sort of obvious why I uh… you know..."_

"_Raped another in-"_

"_Rape is a naughty word. I prefer 'Love without permission'. Or 'Sodomized'. Yeah, 'Sodomized' is juuuust fine."_

"_Could you take this seriously?!"_

"_I think I'll pass."_

"_Lauren, this is not the first time you go and do something like this."_

"_No shit! It's almost like I was sent to, gee, I dunno, DEATH ROW? But hey, let's make the mass murderin' nutjob visit the shrink again, maybe we will discover all of this is a clear misunderstanding or trauma created because the mother nun shoved a ruler up her ass for misbehavin' a lot when nobody was looking back in the Orphanage because that's what the Bible says, am I right? Then we will play accord the script and develop a love triangle between me, you and the Warden, which will end in an action-packed jailbreak scene, a blowjob and a happy ending!"_

"_Lauren… look where your little antics got you. I don't think this is really the time to joke. I know you didn't just rape her because you… wanted to. Tell me why."_

"_Why should I? I'm not getting anything out of this."_

"_If you don't tell me why you did it, you will end up another 2 weeks in solitary. How's that for an incentive?"_

"_Alright. Because I felt like it."_

"_You felt like sending her into a coma as well?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_You really have me at a loss for words, Lauren. I am trying to help you, even if it doesn't looks like it in your eyes. I am well-aware of your expertise and your abilities, I am very aware of the people you have killed, and why you have killed them. I know deep within you are just pretending to be this big bad 'badass', when in reality, you're actually scared and alone. So drop it the mask and tell me already."_

"_Ooooo~ I am so scared! I just want somebody to love me! I'm gonna magically become a productive member of society if somebody just gives me a hug!"_

"_I'm sure you would react in quite the way if you saw your ex-partner. You have to wonder if it was worth not snitching for the guy that is probably dead or completely forgot about-"_

_(Chains rustling and loud grunting noises)_

"_Did I hit a nerve there, Lauren?"_

"_Fuck you."_

"_All of your accomplices are living nice, calm lives while you're here, stuck in prison. What a shame, isn't it?"_

"_Keep touching that subject, James, I fucking dare you."_

"_Do you really think I am afraid of you, Lauren?_

"_You really should. I haven't had a good fuck in years. And I mean an actual fuck, not that little pussy-rubbing I'm here for. But here you come, tempting me just like that stupid fucking bitch!"_

"_Is that why you did what you did to that inmate, Lauren? She 'tempted' you?"_

"_..."_

"_You're just sexually frustra-"_

"_Alright, time for ME to ask YOU a question. Have you heard this urban myth about the guy in the mental institute? He was having quite the talk with a cocky doctor, just like you, James, and the bitch went and poked where she didn't need to poke. Now mind you, the guy was chained to the wall, but he didn't care, he ripped right through that and choked the living shit outta her._

_Now, the thing is, they supposedly reinforced the chains by the time the next doctor arrived and gave him another session, but in reality, they just told them both they did that. So when the second bitch went and asked the same question, wanna know what he did? I think you do. But I ain't some super macho, and you're too much of a fucking pussy to come near me, so… (bone cracking)_

"_Wh-what the FUCK are you doing?!"_

"_Ye Olde Thumb dislocation trick, baby!" (Bone cracking)_

"_Lauren, stop! Don't you make me call security!"_

"_Oh, PLEASE, call them, that way, we can get the orgy started! Just let me get my thumbs back in place! (More bone cracking)_

"_Oh God…"_

"_Much better. Get your pants off."_

"_I'm not going to-"_

"_Get them off."_

_(Something loudly falls to the floor, followed by a violent struggle)_

"_Security! SECURITY! SOMEONE HEL-"_

_**[RECORDING: END]**_


End file.
